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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420647" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Barefoot Boy</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Blessings on thee, little man,<br>Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan!<br>With thy turned-up pantaloons,<br>And thy merry whistled tunes;<br>With thy red lip, redder still<br>Kissed by strawberries on the hill;<br>With the sunshine on thy face,<br>Through thy torn brim's jaunty grace;<br>From my heart I give thee joy, -<br>I was once a barefoot boy!<br>Prince thou art, - the grown-up man<br>Only is republican.<br>Let the million-dollared ride!<br>Barefoot, trudging at his side,<br>Thou hast more than he can buy<br>In the reach of ear and eye, -<br>Outward sunshine, inward joy:<br>Blessings on thee, barefoot boy!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh for boyhood's painless play,<br>Sleep that wakes in laughing day,<br>Health that mocks the doctor's rules,<br>Knowledge never learned of schools,<br>Of the wild bee's morning chase,<br>Of the wild-flower's time and place,<br>Flight of fowl and habitude<br>Of the tenants of the wood;<br>How the tortoise bears his shell,<br>How the woodchuck digs his cell,<br>And the ground-mole sinks his well;<br>How the robin feeds her young,<br>How the oriole's nest is hung;<br>Where the whitest lilies blow,<br>Where the freshest berries grow,<br>Where the ground-nut trails its vine,<br>Where the wood-grape's clusters shine;<br>Of the black wasp's cunning way,<br>Mason of his walls of clay,<br>And the architectural plans<br>Of gray hornet artisans!<br>For, eschewing books and tasks,<br>Nature answers all he asks;<br>Hand in hand with her he walks,<br>Face to face with her he talks,<br>Part and parcel of her joy, -<br>Blessings on the barefoot boy!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh for boyhood's time of June,<br>Crowding years in one brief moon,<br>When all things I heard or saw,<br>Me, their master, waited for.<br>I was rich in flowers and trees,<br>Humming-birds and honey-bees;<br>For my sport the squirrel played,<br>Plied the snouted mole his spade;<br>For my taste the blackberry cone<br>Purpled over hedge and stone;<br>Laughed the brook for my delight<br>Through the day and through the night,<br>Whispering at the garden wall,<br>Talked with me from fall to fall;<br>Mine the sand-rimmed pickerel pond,<br>Mine the walnut slopes beyond,<br>Mine, on bending orchard trees,<br>Apples of Hesperides!<br>Still as my horizon grew,<br>Larger grew my riches too;<br>All the world I saw or knew<br>Seemed a complex Chinese toy,<br>Fashioned for a barefoot boy!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh for festal dainties spread,<br>Like my bowl of milk and bread;<br>Pewter spoon and bowl of wood,<br>On the door-stone, gray and rude!<br>O'er me, like a regal tent,<br>Cloudy-ribbed, the sunset bent,<br>Purple-curtained, fringed with gold,<br>Looped in many a wind-swung fold;<br>While for music came the play<br>Of the pied frogs' orchestra;<br>And, to light the noisy choir,<br>Lit the fly his lamp of fire.<br>I was monarch: pomp and joy<br>Waited on the barefoot boy!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Cheerily, then, my little man,<br>Live and laugh, as boyhood can!<br>Though the flinty slopes be hard,<br>Stubble-speared the new-mown sward,<br>Every morn shall lead thee through<br>Fresh baptisms of the dew;<br>Every evening from thy feet<br>Shall the cool wind kiss the heat:<br>All too soon these feet must hide<br>In the prison cells of pride,<br>Lose the freedom of the sod,<br>Like a colt's for work be shod,<br>Made to tread the mills of toil,<br>Up and down in ceaseless moil:<br>Happy if their track be found<br>Never on forbidden ground;<br>Happy if they sink not in<br>Quick and treacherous sands of sin.<br>Ah! that thou couldst know thy joy,<br>Ere it passes, barefoot boy!</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=420647" data-title="The Barefoot Boy de John Greenleaf Whittier" data-description="Blessings on thee, little man,
Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan!
With thy turned-up pantaloons,
And thy merry whistled tunes;
With thy red lip, redder still
Kissed by strawberries on the hill;
With the sunshine on thy face,
Through thy torn brim's ..."></div>
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