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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420544" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>June On The Merrimac</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">O dwellers in the stately towns,<br>What come ye out to see?<br>This common earth, this common sky,<br>This water flowing free?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As gayly as these kalmia flowers<br>Your door-yard blossoms spring;<br>As sweetly as these wild-wood birds<br>Your caged minstrels sing.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You find but common bloom and green,<br>The rippling river's rune,<br>The beauty which is everywhere<br>Beneath the skies of June;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Hawkswood oaks, the storm-torn plumes<br>Of old pine-forest kings,<br>Beneath whose century-woven shade<br>Deer Island's mistress sings.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And here are pictured Artichoke,<br>And Curson's bowery mill;<br>And Pleasant Valley smiles between<br>The river and the hill.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You know full well these banks of bloom,<br>The upland's wavy line,<br>And how the sunshine tips with fire<br>The needles of the pine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet, like some old remembered psalm,<br>Or sweet, familiar face,<br>Not less because of commonness<br>You love the day and place.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And not in vain in this soft air<br>Shall hard-strung nerves relax,<br>Not all in vain the o'erworn brain<br>Forego its daily tax.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The lust of power, the greed of gain<br>Have all the year their own;<br>The haunting demons well may let<br>Our one bright day alone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Unheeded let the newsboy call,<br>Aside the ledger lay<br>The world will keep its treadmill step<br>Though we fall out to-day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The truants of life's weary school,<br>Without excuse from thrift<br>We change for once the gains of toil<br>For God's unpurchased gift.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From ceiled rooms, from silent books,<br>From crowded car and town,<br>Dear Mother Earth, upon thy lap,<br>We lay our tired heads down.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Cool, summer wind, our heated brows;<br>Blue river, through the green<br>Of clustering pines, refresh the eyes<br>Which all too much have seen.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For us these pleasant woodland ways<br>Are thronged with memories old,<br>Have felt the grasp of friendly hands<br>And heard love's story told.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A sacred presence overbroods<br>The earth whereon we meet;<br>These winding forest-paths are trod<br>By more than mortal feet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Old friends called from us by the voice<br>Which they alone could hear,<br>From mystery to mystery,<br>From life to life, draw near.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">More closely for the sake of them<br>Each other's hands we press;<br>Our voices take from them a tone<br>Of deeper tenderness.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Our joy is theirs, their trust is ours,<br>Alike below, above,<br>Or here or there, about us fold<br>The arms of one great love!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We ask to-day no countersign,<br>No party names we own;<br>Unlabelled, individual,<br>We bring ourselves alone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What cares the unconventioned wood<br>For pass-words of the town?<br>The sound of fashion's shibboleth<br>The laughing waters drown.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Here cant forgets his dreary tone,<br>And care his face forlorn;<br>The liberal air and sunshine laugh<br>The bigot's zeal to scorn.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From manhood's weary shoulder falls<br>His load of selfish cares;<br>And woman takes her rights as flowers<br>And brooks and birds take theirs.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The license of the happy woods,<br>The brook's release are ours;<br>The freedom of the unshamed wind<br>Among the glad-eyed flowers.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet here no evil thought finds place,<br>Nor foot profane comes in;<br>Our grove, like that of Samothrace,<br>Is set apart from sin.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We walk on holy ground; above<br>A sky more holy smiles;<br>The chant of the beatitudes<br>Swells down these leafy aisles.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thanks to the gracious Providence<br>That brings us here once more;<br>For memories of the good behind<br>And hopes of good before.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And if, unknown to us, sweet days<br>Of June like this must come,<br>Unseen of us these laurels clothe<br>The river-banks with bloom;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And these green paths must soon be trod<br>By other feet than ours,<br>Full long may annual pilgrims come<br>To keep the Feast of Flowers;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The matron be a girl once more,<br>The bearded man a boy,<br>And we, in heaven's eternal June,<br>Be glad for earthly joy!</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=420544" data-title="June On The Merrimac de John Greenleaf Whittier" data-description="O dwellers in the stately towns,
What come ye out to see?
This common earth, this common sky,
This water flowing free?

As gayly as these kalmia flowers
Your door-yard blossoms spring;
As sweetly as these wild-wood birds
Your caged minstrels sing...."></div>
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