<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419625" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Northern Suburb</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nature selects the longest way,<br> And winds about in tortuous grooves;<br>A thousand years the oaks decay;<br> The wrinkled glacier hardly moves.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But here the whetted fangs of change<br> Daily devour the old demesne –<br>The busy farm, the quiet grange,<br> The wayside inn, the village green.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In gaudy yellow brick and red,<br> With rooting pipes, like creepers rank,<br>The shoddy terraces o'erspread<br> Meadow, and garth, and daisied bank.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">With shelves for rooms the houses crowd,<br> Like draughty cupboards in a row –<br>Ice-chests when wintry winds are loud,<br> Ovens when summer breezes blow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Roused by the fee'd policeman's knock,<br> And sad that day should come again,<br>Under the stars the workmen flock<br> In haste to reach the workmen's train.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For here dwell those who must fulfil<br> Dull tasks in uncongenial spheres,<br>Who toil through dread of coming ill,<br> And not with hope of happier years –</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The lowly folk who scarcely dare<br> Conceive themselves perhaps misplaced,<br>Whose prize for unremitting care<br> Is only not to be disgraced</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Davidson">John Davidson</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=419625" data-title="A Northern Suburb de John Davidson" data-description="Nature selects the longest way,  And winds about in tortuous grooves; A thousand years the oaks decay;  The wrinkled glacier hardly moves. But here the whetted fangs of change  Daily devour the old demesne – The busy farm, the quiet grang..."></div> </div> </div>

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