<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408593" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Cherry- Tree Inn</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The rafters are open to sun, moon, and star, <br>Thistles and nettles grow high in the bar -- <br>The chimneys are crumbling, the log fires are dead, <br>And green mosses spring from the hearthstone instead. <br>The voices are silent, the bustle and din, <br>For the railroad hath ruined the Cherry-tree Inn. <br> <br>Save the glimmer of stars, or the moon's pallid streams, <br>And the sounds of the 'possums that camp on the beams, <br>The bar-room is dark and the stable is still, <br>For the coach comes no more over Cherry-tree Hill. <br>No riders push on through the darkness to win <br>The rest and the comfort of Cherry-tree Inn. <br> <br>I drift from my theme, for my memory strays <br>To the carrying, digging, and bushranging days -- <br>Far back to the seasons that I love the best, <br>When a stream of wild diggers rushed into the west, <br>But the `rushes' grew feeble, and sluggish, and thin, <br>Till scarcely a swagman passed Cherry-tree Inn. <br> <br>Do you think, my old mate (if it's thinking you be), <br>Of the days when you tramped to the goldfields with me? <br>Do you think of the day of our thirty-mile tramp, <br>When never a fire could we light on the camp, <br>And, weary and footsore and drenched to the skin, <br>We tramped through the darkness to Cherry-tree Inn? <br> <br>Then I had a sweetheart and you had a wife, <br>And Johnny was more to his mother than life; <br>But we solemnly swore, ere that evening was done, <br>That we'd never return till our fortunes were won. <br>Next morning to harvests of folly and sin <br>We tramped o'er the ranges from Cherry-tree Inn. <br> <br> . . . . . <br> <br>The years have gone over with many a change, <br>And there comes an old swagman from over the range, <br>And faint 'neath the weight of his rain-sodden load, <br>He suddenly thinks of the inn by the road. <br>He tramps through the darkness the shelter to win, <br>And reaches the ruins of Cherry-tree Inn.</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> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=408593" data-title="Cherry- Tree Inn de Henry Lawson" data-description="The rafters are open to sun, moon, and star, Thistles and nettles grow high in the bar -- The chimneys are crumbling, the log fires are dead, And green mosses spring from the hearthstone instead. The voices are silent, the bustle and din, For..."></div> </div> </div>

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