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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=386597" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The flight of the crows</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The autumn afternoon is dying o'er <br> The quiet western valley where I lie <br>Beneath the maples on the river shore, <br> Where tinted leaves, blue waters and fair sky <br> Environ all; and far above some birds are flying by </div><div style="margin:10px 0">To seek their evening haven in the breast <br> And calm embrace of silence, while they sing <br>Te Deums to the night, invoking rest <br> For busy chirping voice and tired wing-- <br> And in the hush of sleeping trees their sleeping cradles swing. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">In forest arms the night will soonest creep, <br> Where sombre pines a lullaby intone, <br>Where Nature's children curl themselves to sleep, <br> And all is still at last, save where alone <br> A band of black, belated crows arrive from lands unknown. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Strange sojourn has been theirs since waking day, <br> Strange sights and cities in their wanderings blend <br>With fields of yellow maize, and leagues away <br> With rivers where their sweeping waters wend <br> Past velvet banks to rocky shores, in canyons bold to end. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">O'er what vast lakes that stretch superbly dead, <br> Till lashed to life by storm-clouds, have they flown? <br>In what wild lands, in laggard flight have led <br> Their aerial career unseen, unknown, <br> 'Till now with twilight come their cries in lonely monotone? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The flapping of their pinions in the air <br> Dies in the hush of distance, while they light <br>Within the fir tops, weirdly black and bare, <br> That stand with giant strength and peerless height, <br> To shelter fairy, bird and beast throughout the closing night. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Strange black and princely pirates of the skies, <br> Would that your wind-tossed travels I could know! <br>Would that my soul could see, and, seeing, rise <br> To unrestricted life where ebb and flow <br> Of Nature's pulse would constitute a wider life below! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Could I but live just here in Freedom's arms, <br> A kingly life without a sovereign's care! <br>Vain dreams! Day hides with closing wings her charms, <br> And all is cradled in repose, save where <br> Yon band of black, belated crows still frets the evening air.</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=386597" data-title="The flight of the crows de Emily Pauline Johnson" data-description="The autumn afternoon is dying o'er 
 The quiet western valley where I lie 
Beneath the maples on the river shore, 
 Where tinted leaves, blue waters and fair sky 
 Environ all; and far above some birds are flying by 

To seek their evening haven i..."></div>
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