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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=415705" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>From an Upper Verandah</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">What happier haunt could the gods allot<br>For loftiest musing to sage or bard?—<br>Yet I would that this upper verandah did not<br>Look down on my beautiful Neighbour's Back-yard!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I stir the afflatus: Descend, O ye Nine!<br>Let the crystalline gates of the soul be unbarred!<br>No. My thoughts will keep running in one fixed line—<br>The clothes-line that hangs in my Neighbour's Back-yard!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let me gaze on the hills; let me think of the sea;<br>Of the dawn rosy-fingered—the night silver-starred:—<br>(What dear little feet must the owner's be<br>Of those stockings that hang in my Neighbour's Back-yard!)</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let me tune my soul to a measure devout:—<br>Ah, the musical mood is all jangled and jarred,<br>While things with borders, and things without,<br>Keep flutt'ring down there in my Neighbour's Back-yard!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Are the True and the Good and the Beautiful dead,<br>That I win not one gleam of Pierian regard?<br>(Does she suffer, I wonder, from cold in the head?—<br>Such a lot of mouchoirs in my Neighbour's Back-yard!)</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Comes the fit. While it sways me, high themes would I sing!<br>Prometheus! Achilles! Have at you! En grade!<br>Alexander the Great—(oh that I were a string<br>On that apron hung out in my Neighbour's Back-yard!)</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I will shut my eyes fast—I have hit it at last,<br>Now my purest Ideals flit by me unmarred;<br>And odours of memory rise from the past,<br>(And an odour of suds from my Neighbour's Back-yard!)</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah, yes! when the eyelids together are prest,<br>Every vestige of earth we throw off and discard.<br>(These are flannels, I think. Is she weak in the chest?—<br>There! I'm looking again at my Neighbour's Back-yard!)<br>Since the Muses back out, let Philosophy in:<br>Let me ponder its problems cold and hard.<br>Ah! Philosophy dies in a celibate grin<br>At that bolster-case down in my Neighbour's Back-yard!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh shame on my rapidly silvering hairs!<br>Oh shame on this veteran battered and scarred!<br> <br>I to be witched with these frilled—affairs!<br>Confound my neighbour! Confound her Back-yard!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Why seek for the blossoms of Auld Lang Syne,<br>When the boughs where they budded are blasted and charred?—<br>Faugh! the whole concern's too alkaline—<br>It's washing day in my Neighbour's Back-yard!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Brunton+Stephens">James Brunton Stephens</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=415705" data-title="From an Upper Verandah de James Brunton Stephens" data-description="What happier haunt could the gods allot
For loftiest musing to sage or bard?—
Yet I would that this upper verandah did not
Look down on my beautiful Neighbour's Back-yard!

I stir the afflatus: Descend, O ye Nine!
Let the crystalline gates of th..."></div>
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