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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420624" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Revisited</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The roll of drums and the bugle's wailing<br>Vex the air of our vales-no more;<br>The spear is beaten to hooks of pruning,<br>The share is the sword the soldier wore!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sing soft, sing low, our lowland river,<br>Under thy banks of laurel bloom;<br>Softly and sweet, as the hour beseemeth,<br>Sing us the songs of peace and home.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let all the tenderer voices of nature<br>Temper the triumph and chasten mirth,<br>Full of the infinite love and pity<br>For fallen martyr and darkened hearth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But to Him who gives us beauty for ashes,<br>And the oil of joy for mourning long,<br>Let thy hills give thanks, and all thy waters<br>Break into jubilant waves of song!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bring us the airs of hills and forests,<br>The sweet aroma of birch and pine,<br>Give us a waft of the north-wind laden<br>With sweethrier odors and breath of kine!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bring us the purple of mountain sunsets,<br>Shadows of clouds that rake the hills,<br>The green repose of thy Plymouth meadows,<br>The gleam and ripple of Campton rills.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lead us away in shadow and sunshine,<br>Slaves of fancy, through all thy miles,<br>The winding ways of Pemigewasset,<br>And Winnipesaukee's hundred isles.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Shatter in sunshine over thy ledges,<br>Laugh in thy plunges from fall to fall;<br>Play with thy fringes of elms, and darken<br>Under the shade of the mountain wall.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The cradle-song of thy hillside fountains<br>Here in thy glory and strength repeat;<br>Give us a taste of thy upland music,<br>Show us the dance of thy silver feet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Into thy dutiful life of uses<br>Pour the music and weave the flowers;<br>With the song of birds and bloom of meadows<br>Lighten and gladden thy heart and ours.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sing on! bring down, O lowland river,<br>The joy of the hills to the waiting sea;<br>The wealth of the vales, the pomp of mountains,<br>The breath of the woodlands, bear with thee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Here, in the calm of thy seaward, valley,<br>Mirth and labor shall hold their truce;<br>Dance of water and mill of grinding,<br>Both are beauty and both are use.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Type of the Northland's strength and glory,<br>Pride and hope of our home and race,--<br>Freedom lending to rugged labor<br>Tints of beauty and lines of grace.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Once again, O beautiful river,<br>Hear our greetings and take our thanks;<br>Hither we come, as Eastern pilgrims<br>Throng to the Jordan's sacred banks.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For though by the Master's feet untrodden,<br>Though never His word has stilled thy waves,<br>Well for us may thy shores be holy,<br>With Christian altars and saintly graves.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And well may we own thy hint and token<br>Of fairer valleys and streams than these,<br>Where the rivers of God are full of water,<br>And full of sap are His healing trees!</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> <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=420624" data-title="Revisited de John Greenleaf Whittier" data-description="The roll of drums and the bugle's wailing Vex the air of our vales-no more; The spear is beaten to hooks of pruning, The share is the sword the soldier wore! Sing soft, sing low, our lowland river, Under thy banks of laurel bloom; Softly and swee..."></div> </div> </div>
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