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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408543" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Above Crow's Nest [Sydney]</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A BLANKET low and leaden,<br>Though rent across the west,<br>Whose darkness seems to deaden<br>The brightest and the best;<br>A sunset white and staring<br>On cloud-wrecks far away—<br>And haggard house-walls glaring<br>A farewell to the day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A light on tower and steeple,<br>Where sun no longer shines—<br>My people, Oh my people!<br>Rise up and read the signs!<br>Low looms the nearer high-line<br>(No sign of star or moon),<br>The horseman on the skyline<br>Rode hard this afternoon!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">(Is he—and who shall know it?—<br>The spectre of a scout?<br>The spirit of a poet,<br>Whose truths were met with doubt?<br>Who sought and who succeeded<br>In marking danger’s track—<br>Whose warnings were unheeded<br>Till all the sky was black?)</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It is a shameful story<br>For our young, generous home—<br>Without the rise and glory<br>We’d go as Greece and Rome.<br>Without the sacrifices<br>That make a nation’s name,<br>The elder nation’s vices<br>And luxuries we claim.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Grown vain without a conquest,<br>And sure without a fort,<br>And maddened in the one quest<br>For pleasure or for sport.<br>Self-blinded to our starkness<br>We’d fling the time away<br>To fight, half-armed, in darkness<br>Who should be armed to-day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This song is for the city,<br>The city in its pride—<br>The coming time shall pity<br>And shield the countryside.<br>Shall we live in the present<br>Till fearful war-clouds loom,<br>And till the sullen peasant<br>Shall leave us to our doom?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Cloud-fortresses titanic<br>Along the western sky—<br>The tired, bowed mechanic<br>And pallid clerk flit by.<br>Lit by a light unhealthy—<br>The ghastly after-glare—<br>The veiled and goggled wealthy<br>Drive fast—they know not where.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Night’s sullen spirit rouses,<br>The darkening gables lour<br>From ugly four-roomed houses<br>Verandah’d windows glower;<br>The last long day-stare dies on<br>The scrub-ridged western side,<br>And round the near horizon<br>The spectral horsemen ride.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Lawson">Henry Lawson</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=408543" data-title="Above Crow's Nest [Sydney] de Henry Lawson" data-description="A BLANKET low and leaden,
Though rent across the west,
Whose darkness seems to deaden
The brightest and the best;
A sunset white and staring
On cloud-wrecks far away—
And haggard house-walls glaring
A farewell to the day.

A light on tower and s..."></div>
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