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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420510" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Hazel Blossoms</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">THE SUMMER warmth has left the sky,<br>The summer songs have died away;<br>And, withered, in the footpaths lie<br>The fallen leaves, but yesterday<br>With ruby and with topaz gay. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The grass is browning on the hills;<br>No pale, belated flowers recall<br>The astral fringes of the rills,<br>And drearily the dead vines fall,<br>Frost-blackened, from the roadside wall. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet through the gray and sombre wood,<br>Against the dusk of fir and pine,<br>Last of their floral sisterhood,<br>The hazel’s yellow blossoms shine,<br>The tawny gold of Afric’s mine! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Small beauty hath my unsung flower,<br>For spring to own or summer hail;<br>But, in the season’s saddest hour,<br>To skies that weep and winds that wail<br>Its glad surprisals never fail. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">O days grown cold! O life grown old<br>No rose of June may bloom again;<br>But, like the hazel’s twisted gold,<br>Through early frost and latter rain<br>Shall hints of summer-time remain. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And as within the hazel’s bough<br>A gift of mystic virtue dwells,<br>That points to golden ores below,<br>And in dry desert places tells<br>Where flow unseen the cool, sweet wells, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">So, in the wise Diviner’s hand,<br>Be mine the hazel’s grateful part<br>To feel, beneath a thirsty land,<br>The living waters thrill and start,<br>The beating of the rivulet’s heart! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sufficeth me the gift to light<br>With latest bloom the dark, cold days;<br>To call some hidden spring to sight<br>That, in these dry and dusty ways,<br>Shall sing its pleasant song of praise. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">O Love! the hazel-wand may fail,<br>But thou canst lend the surer spell,<br>That, passing over Baca’s vale,<br>Repeats the old-time miracle,<br>And makes the desert-land a well.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Greenleaf+Whittier">John Greenleaf Whittier</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=420510" data-title="Hazel Blossoms de John Greenleaf Whittier" data-description="THE SUMMER warmth has left the sky,
The summer songs have died away;
And, withered, in the footpaths lie
The fallen leaves, but yesterday
With ruby and with topaz gay. 

The grass is browning on the hills;
No pale, belated flowers recall
The astra..."></div>
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