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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391912" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>In France</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">THE silence of maternal hills <br>Is round me in my evening dreams; <br>And round me music-making rills <br>And mingling waves of pastoral streams.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Whatever way I turn I find <br>The path is old unto me still. <br>The hills of home are in my mind, <br>And there I wander as I will.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Francis+Ledwidge">Francis Ledwidge</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=391912" data-title="In France de Francis Ledwidge" data-description="THE silence of maternal hills 
Is round me in my evening dreams; 
And round me music-making rills 
And mingling waves of pastoral streams.

Whatever way I turn I find 
The path is old unto me still. 
The hills of home are in my mind, 
And there I ..."></div>
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