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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420610" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Pictures</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I.<br>Light, warmth, and sprouting greenness, and o'er all<br>Blue, stainless, steel-bright ether, raining down<br>Tranquillity upon the deep-hushed town,<br>The freshening meadows, and the hillsides brown;<br>Voice of the west-wind from the hills of pine,<br>And the brimmed river from its distant fall,<br>Low hum of bees, and joyous interlude<br>Of bird-songs in the streamlet-skirting wood,--<br>Heralds and prophecies of sound and sight,<br>Blessed forerunners of the warmth and light,<br>Attendant angels to the house of prayer,<br>With reverent footsteps keeping pace with mine,--<br>Once more, through God's great love, with you I share<br>A morn of resurrection sweet and fair<br>As that which saw, of old, in Palestine,<br>Immortal Love uprising in fresh bloom<br>From the dark night and winter of the tomb!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>II.<br>White with its sun-bleached dust, the pathway winds<br>Before me; dust is on the shrunken grass,<br>And on the trees beneath whose boughs I pass;<br>Frail screen against the Hunter of the sky,<br>Who, glaring on me with his lidless eye,<br>While mounting with his dog-star high and higher<br>Ambushed in light intolerable, unbinds<br>The burnished quiver of his shafts of fire.<br>Between me and the hot fields of his South<br>A tremulous glow, as from a furnace-mouth,<br>Glimmers and swims before my dazzled sight,<br>As if the burning arrows of his ire<br>Broke as they fell, and shattered into light;<br>Yet on my cheek I feel the western wind,<br>And hear it telling to the orchard trees,<br>And to the faint and flower-forsaken bees,<br>Tales of fair meadows, green with constant streams,<br>And mountains rising blue and cool behind,<br>Where in moist dells the purple orchis gleams,<br>And starred with white the virgin's bower is twined.<br>So the o'erwearied pilgrim, as he fares<br>Along life's summer waste, at times is fanned,<br>Even at noontide, by the cool, sweet airs<br>Of a serener and a holier land,<br>Fresh as the morn, and as the dewfall bland.<br>Breath of the blessed Heaven for which we pray,<br>Blow from the eternal hills! make glad our earthly way!</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=420610" data-title="Pictures de John Greenleaf Whittier" data-description="I.
Light, warmth, and sprouting greenness, and o'er all
Blue, stainless, steel-bright ether, raining down
Tranquillity upon the deep-hushed town,
The freshening meadows, and the hillsides brown;
Voice of the west-wind from the hills of pine,
And t..."></div>
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