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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419547" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To a Fallen Elm</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Old Elm that murmured in our chimney top<br>The sweetest anthem autumn ever made<br>And into mellow whispering calms would drop<br>When showers fell on thy many coloured shade<br>And when dark tempests mimic thunder made<br>While darkness came as it would strangle light<br>With the black tempest of a winter night<br>That rocked thee like a cradle to thy root<br>How did I love to hear the winds upbraid<br>Thy strength without while all within was mute<br>It seasoned comfort to our hearts desire<br>We felt thy kind protection like a friend<br>And pitched our chairs up closer to the fire<br>Enjoying comforts that was was never penned</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Old favourite tree thoust seen times changes lower<br>But change till now did never come to thee<br>For time beheld thee as his sacred dower<br>And nature claimed thee her domestic tree<br>Storms came and shook thee with aliving power<br>Yet stedfast to thy home thy roots hath been<br>Summers of thirst parched round thy homely bower<br>Till earth grew iron - still thy leaves was green<br>The children sought thee in thy summer shade<br>And made their play house rings of sticks and stone<br>The mavis sang and felt himself alone<br>While in they leaves his early nest was made<br>And I did feel his happiness mine own<br>Nought heeding that our friendship was betrayed</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Friend not inanimate- tho stocks and stones<br>There are and many cloathed in flesh and bones<br>Thou ownd a lnaguage by which hearts are stirred<br>Deeper than by the attribute of words<br>Thine spoke a feeling known in every tongue<br>Language of pity and the force of wrong<br>What cant assumes what hypocrites may dare<br>Speaks home to truth and shows it what they are</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I see a picture that thy fate displays<br>And learn a lesson from thy destiny<br>Self interest saw thee stand in freedoms ways<br>So thy old shadow must a tyrant be<br>Thoust heard the knave abusing those in power<br>Bawl freedom loud and then oppress the free<br>Thoust sheltered hypocrites in many an hour<br>That when in power would never shelter thee<br>Thoust heard the knave supply his canting powers<br>With wrongs illusions when he wanted friends<br>That bawled for shelter when he lived in showers<br>And when clouds vanished made thy shade ammends<br>With axe at root he felled thee to the ground<br>And barked of freedom - O I hate that sound</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It grows the cant terms of enslaving tools<br>To wrong another by the name of right<br>It grows a liscence with oer bearing fools<br>To cheat plain honesty by force of might<br>Thus came enclosure- ruin was her guide<br>But freedoms clapping hands enjoyed the sight<br>Tho comforts cottage soon was thrust aside<br>And workhouse prisons raised upon the scite<br>Een natures dwelling far away from men<br>The common heath became the spoilers prey<br>The rabbit had not where to make his den<br>And labours only cow was drove away<br>No matter- wrong was right and right was wrong<br>And freedoms brawl was sanction to the song</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Such was thy ruin music making Elm<br>The rights of freedom was to injure thine<br>As thou wert served so would they overwhelm<br>In freedoms name the little so would they over whelm<br>And these are knaves that brawl for better laws<br>And cant of tyranny in stronger powers<br>Who glut their vile unsatiated maws<br>And freedoms birthright from the weak devours</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Clare">John Clare</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=419547" data-title="To a Fallen Elm de John Clare" data-description="Old Elm that murmured in our chimney top
The sweetest anthem autumn ever made
And into mellow whispering calms would drop
When showers fell on thy many coloured shade
And when dark tempests mimic thunder made
While darkness came as it would strang..."></div>
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