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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=409376" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Burial of the Minnisink</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">On sunny slope and beechen swell,<br>The shadowed light of evening fell;<br>And, where the maple's leaf was brown,<br>With soft and silent lapse came down,<br>The glory, that the wood receives,<br>At sunset, in its golden leaves.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Far upward in the mellow light<br>Rose the blue hills. One cloud of white,<br>Around a far uplifted cone,<br>In the warm blush of evening shone;<br>An image of the silver lakes,<br>By which the Indian's soul awakes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But soon a funeral hymn was heard<br>Where the soft breath of evening stirred<br>The tall, gray forest; and a band<br>Of stern in heart, and strong in hand,<br>Came winding down beside the wave,<br>To lay the red chief in his grave.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They sang, that by his native bowers<br>He stood, in the last moon of flowers,<br>And thirty snows had not yet shed<br>Their glory on the warrior's head;<br>But, as the summer fruit decays,<br>So died he in those naked days.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A dark cloak of the roebuck's skin<br>Covered the warrior, and within<br>Its heavy folds the weapons, made<br>For the hard toils of war, were laid;<br>The cuirass, woven of plaited reeds,<br>And the broad belt of shells and beads.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Before, a dark-haired virgin train<br>Chanted the death dirge of the slain;<br>Behind, the long procession came<br>Of hoary men and chiefs of fame,<br>With heavy hearts, and eyes of grief,<br>Leading the war-horse of their chief.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Stripped of his proud and martial dress,<br>Uncurbed, unreined, and riderless,<br>With darting eye, and nostril spread,<br>And heavy and impatient tread,<br>He came; and oft that eye so proud<br>Asked for his rider in the crowd.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They buried the dark chief; they freed<br>Beside the grave his battle steed;<br>And swift an arrow cleaved its way<br>To his stern heart! One piercing neigh<br>Arose, and, on the dead man's plain,<br>The rider grasps his steed again.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Wadsworth+Longfellow">Henry Wadsworth Longfellow</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=409376" data-title="Burial of the Minnisink de Henry Wadsworth Longfellow" data-description="On sunny slope and beechen swell,
The shadowed light of evening fell;
And, where the maple's leaf was brown,
With soft and silent lapse came down,
The glory, that the wood receives,
At sunset, in its golden leaves.

Far upward in the mellow light
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