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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=396749" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Invitation To The Country</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now 'tis Spring on wood and wold, <br>Early Spring that shivers with cold, <br>But gladdens, and gathers, day by day, <br>A lovelier hue, a warmer ray, <br>A sweeter song, a dearer ditty; <br>Ouzel and throstle, new-mated and gay, <br>Singing their bridals on every spray - <br>Oh, hear them, deep in the songless City! <br>Cast off the yoke of toil and smoke, <br>As Spring is casting winter's grey, <br>As serpents cast their skins away: <br>And come, for the Country awaits thee with pity <br>And longs to bathe thee in her delight, <br>And take a new joy in thy kindling sight; <br>And I no less, by day and night, <br>Long for thy coming, and watch for, and wait thee, <br>And wonder what duties can thus berate thee. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Dry-fruited firs are dropping their cones, <br>And vista'd avenues of pines <br>Take richer green, give fresher tones, <br>As morn after morn the glad sun shines. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Primrose tufts peep over the brooks, <br>Fair faces amid moist decay! <br>The rivulets run with the dead leaves at play, <br>The leafless elms are alive with the rooks. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Over the meadows the cowslips are springing, <br>The marshes are thick with king-cup gold, <br>Clear is the cry of the lambs in the fold, <br>The skylark is singing, and singing, and singing. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Soon comes the cuckoo when April is fair, <br>And her blue eye the brighter the more it may weep: <br>The frog and the butterfly wake from their sleep, <br>Each to its element, water and air. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mist hangs still on every hill, <br>And curls up the valleys at eve; but noon <br>Is fullest of Spring; and at midnight the moon <br>Gives her westering throne to Orion's bright zone, <br>As he slopes o'er the darkened world's repose; <br>And a lustre in eastern Sirius glows. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Come, in the season of opening buds; <br>Come, and molest not the otter that whistles <br>Unlit by the moon, 'mid the wet winter bristles <br>Of willow, half-drowned in the fattening floods. <br>Let him catch his cold fish without fear of a gun, <br>And the stars shall shield him, and thou wilt shun! <br>And every little bird under the sun <br>Shall know that the bounty of Spring doth dwell <br>In the winds that blow, in the waters that run, <br>And in the breast of man as well.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=George+Meredith">George Meredith</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=396749" data-title="Invitation To The Country de George Meredith" data-description="Now 'tis Spring on wood and wold, 
Early Spring that shivers with cold, 
But gladdens, and gathers, day by day, 
A lovelier hue, a warmer ray, 
A sweeter song, a dearer ditty; 
Ouzel and throstle, new-mated and gay, 
Singing their bridals on every..."></div>
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