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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=386537" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>An etching</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A meadow brown; across the yonder edge <br>A zigzag fence is ambling; here a wedge <br>Of underbush has cleft its course in twain, <br>Till where beyond it staggers up again; <br>The long, grey rails stretch in a broken line <br>Their ragged length of rough, split forest pine, <br>And in their zigzag tottering have reeled <br>In drunken efforts to enclose the field, <br>Which carries on its breast, September born, <br>A patch of rustling, yellow, Indian corn. <br>Beyond its shrivelled tassels, perched upon <br>The topmost rail, sits Joe, the settler's son, <br>A little semi-savage boy of nine. <br>Now dozing in the warmth of Nature's wine, <br>His face the sun has tampered with, and wrought, <br>By heated kisses, mischief, and has brought <br>Some vagrant freckles, while from here and there <br>A few wild locks of vagabond brown hair <br>Escape the old straw hat the sun looks through, <br>And blinks to meet his Irish eyes of blue. <br>Barefooted, innocent of coat or vest, <br>His grey checked shirt unbuttoned at his chest, <br>Both hardy hands within their usual nest-- <br>His breeches pockets--so, he waits to rest <br>His little fingers, somewhat tired and worn, <br>That all day long were husking Indian corn. <br>His drowsy lids snap at some trivial sound, <br>With lazy yawns he slips towards the ground, <br>Then with an idle whistle lifts his load <br>And shambles home along the country road <br>That stretches on, fringed out with stumps and weeds, <br>And finally unto the backwoods leads, <br>Where forests wait with giant trunk and bough <br>The axe of pioneer, the settler's plough.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Emily+Pauline+Johnson">Emily Pauline Johnson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=386537" data-title="An etching de Emily Pauline Johnson" data-description="A meadow brown; across the yonder edge 
A zigzag fence is ambling; here a wedge 
Of underbush has cleft its course in twain, 
Till where beyond it staggers up again; 
The long, grey rails stretch in a broken line 
Their ragged length of rough, spl..."></div>
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