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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408272" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Bell Birds</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">By channels of coolness the echoes are calling,<br>And down the dim gorges I hear the creek falling;<br>It lives in the mountain, where moss and the sedges<br>Touch with their beauty the banks and the ledges;<br>Through brakes of the cedar and sycamore bowers<br>Struggles the light that is love to the flowers.<br>And, softer than slumber, and sweeter than singing,<br>The notes of the bell-birds are running and ringing.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The silver-voiced bell-birds, the darlings of day-time,<br>They sing in September their songs of the May-time.<br>When shadows wax strong and the thunder-bolts hurtle,<br>They hide with their fear in the leaves of the myrtle;<br>When rain and the sunbeams shine mingled together<br>They start up like fairies that follow fair weather,<br>And straightway the hues of their feathers unfolden<br>Are the green and the purple, the blue and the golden.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">October, the maiden of bright yellow tresses,<br>Loiters for love in these cool wildernesses;<br>Loiters knee-deep in the grasses to listen,<br>Where dripping rocks gleam and the leafy pools glisten.<br>Then is the time when the water-moons splendid<br>Break with their gold, and are scattered or blended<br>Over the creeks, till the woodlands have warning<br>Of songs of the bell-bird and wings of the morning.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Welcome as waters unkissed by the summers<br>Are the voices of bell-birds to thirsty far-comers.<br>When fiery December sets foot in the forest,<br>And the need of the wayfarer presses the sorest,<br>Pent in the ridges for ever and ever.<br>The bell-birds direct him to spring and to river,<br>With ring and with ripple, like runnels whose torrents<br>Are toned by the pebbles and leaves in the currents.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Often I sit, looking back to a childhood<br>Mixt with the sights and the sounds of the wildwood,<br>Longing for power and the sweetness to fashion<br>Lyrics with beats like the heart-beats of passion --<br>Songs interwoven of lights and of laughters<br>Borrowed from bell-birds in far forest rafters;<br>So I might keep in the city and alleys<br>The beauty and strength of the deep mountain valleys,<br>Charming to slumber the pain of my losses<br>With glimpses of creeks and a vision of mosses.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Kendall">Henry Kendall</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=408272" data-title="Bell Birds de Henry Kendall" data-description="By channels of coolness the echoes are calling,
And down the dim gorges I hear the creek falling;
It lives in the mountain, where moss and the sedges
Touch with their beauty the banks and the ledges;
Through brakes of the cedar and sycamore bowers..."></div>
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