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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420639" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sunset On The Bearcamp</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A gold fringe on the purpling hem<br>Of hills the river runs,<br>As down its long, green valley falls<br>The last of summer's suns.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Along its tawny gravel-bed<br>Broad-flowing, swift, and still,<br>As if its meadow levels felt<br>The hurry of the hill,<br>Noiseless between its banks of green<br>From curve to curve it slips;<br>The drowsy maple-shadows rest<br>Like fingers on its lips.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A waif from Carroll's wildest hills,<br>Unstoried and unknown;<br>The ursine legend of its name<br>Prowls on its banks alone.<br>Yet flowers as fair its slopes adorn<br>As ever Yarrow knew,<br>Or, under rainy Irish skies,<br>By Spenser's Mulla grew;<br>And through the gaps of leaning trees<br>Its mountain cradle shows<br>The gold against the amethyst,<br>The green against the rose.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Touched by a light that hath no name,<br>A glory never sung,<br>Aloft on sky and mountain wall<br>Are God's great pictures hung.<br>How changed the summits vast and old!<br>No longer granite-browed,<br>They melt in rosy mist; the rock<br>Is softer than the cloud;<br>The valley holds its breath; no leaf<br>Of all its elms is twirled<br>The silence of eternity<br>Seems falling on the world.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The pause before the breaking seals<br>Of mystery is this;<br>Yon miracle-play of night and day<br>Makes dumb its witnesses.<br>What unseen altar crowns the hills<br>That reach up stair on stair?<br>What eyes look through, what white wings fan<br>These purple veils of air?<br>What Presence from the heavenly heights<br>To those of earth stoops down?<br>Not vainly Hellas dreamed of gods<br>On Ida's snowy crown!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Slow fades the vision of the sky,<br>The golden water pales,<br>And over all the valley-land<br>A gray-winged vapor sails.<br>I go the common way of all;<br>The sunset fires will burn,<br>The flowers will blow, the river flow,<br>When I no more return.<br>No whisper from the mountain pine<br>Nor lapsing stream shall tell<br>The stranger, treading where I tread,<br>Of him who loved them well.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But beauty seen is never lost,<br>God's colors all are fast;<br>The glory of this sunset heaven<br>Into my soul has passed,<br>A sense of gladness unconfined<br>To mortal date or clime;<br>As the soul liveth, it shall live<br>Beyond the years of time.<br>Beside the mystic asphodels<br>Shall bloom the home-born flowers,<br>And new horizons flush and glow<br>With sunset hues of ours.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Farewell! these smiling hills must wear<br>Too soon their wintry frown,<br>And snow-cold winds from off them shake<br>The maple's red leaves down.<br>But I shall see a summer sun<br>Still setting broad and low;<br>The mountain slopes shall blush and bloom,<br>The golden water flow.<br>A lover's claim is mine on all<br>I see to have and hold,--<br>The rose-light of perpetual hills,<br>And sunsets never cold!</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=420639" data-title="Sunset On The Bearcamp de John Greenleaf Whittier" data-description="A gold fringe on the purpling hem
Of hills the river runs,
As down its long, green valley falls
The last of summer's suns.

Along its tawny gravel-bed
Broad-flowing, swift, and still,
As if its meadow levels felt
The hurry of the hill,
Noiseless b..."></div>
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