<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408699" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>On the Summit of Mt. Clarence</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">On the summit of Mount Clarence rotting slowly in the air<br>Stands a tall and naked flagstaff, relic of the Russian scare—<br>Russian scare that scares no longer, for the cry is “All is well”—<br>Yet the flagstaff still is standing like a lonely sentinel.<br>And it watches through the seasons—winter’s cold and summer’s heat,<br>Watches seaward, watches ever for the phantom Russian fleet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In a cave among the ridges, where the scrub is tall and thick<br>With no human being near him dwells a wretched lunatic:<br>On Mount Clarence in the morning he will fix his burning eyes,<br>And he scans the sea and watches for the signal flag to rise;<br>In his ears the roar of cannon and the sound of battle drums<br>While he cleans his gun and watches for the foe that never comes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And they say, at dreary nightfall, when the storms are howling round<br>Comes a phantom ship to anchor in the waters of the “Sound”,<br>And the lunatic who sees it wakes the landscape with his whoops,<br>Loads his gun and marches seaward at the head of airy troops—<br>To the summit of Mount Clarence leads them on with martial tread,<br>Fires his gun and sends the Russians to the mustering of the dead.</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=408699" data-title="On the Summit of Mt. Clarence de Henry Lawson" data-description="On the summit of Mount Clarence rotting slowly in the air Stands a tall and naked flagstaff, relic of the Russian scare— Russian scare that scares no longer, for the cry is “All is well”— Yet the flagstaff still is standing like a lonely s..."></div> </div> </div>

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