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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420649" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Battle Autumn of 1862</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The flags of war like storm birds fly,<br>The charging trumpets blow; <br>Yet rolls no thunder in the sky,<br>No earthquake strives below.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And, calm and patient, Nature keeps<br>Her ancient promises well,<br>Though o'er her bloom and greenness sweeps,<br>The battle's breath of hell.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And still she walks in golden hours,<br>Through harvest-happy farms,<br>And still she wears her fruits and flowers<br>Like jewels on her arms.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What means the gladness of the plain,<br>This joy of eve and morn,<br>The mirth that shakes the bread of grain<br>And yellow locks of corn?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah! eyes may well be full of tears,<br>And hearts with hate are hot;<br>But even-paced come round the years,<br>And nature changes not.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She meets with smiles our bitter grief,<br>With songs our groans of pain;<br>She mocks with tints of flowers and leaf,<br>The war-field's crimson stain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Still, in the cannon's pause, we hear<br>Her sweet thanksgiving psalm;<br>Too near to God for doubt or fear,<br>She shares the eternal calm.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She knows the seed lies safe below<br>The fires that blast and burn;<br>For all the tears of blood we sow<br>She waits the rich return.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She sees with clearer eye than ours<br>The good of suffering born,<br>The hearts that blossom like her flowers<br>And ripen like her corn.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, give to us, in times like these,<br>The vision of her eyes;<br>And make her fields and fruited trees<br>Our golden prophecies.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, give to us her finer ear;<br>Above this stormy din,<br>We, too, would hear the bells of cheer<br>Ring peace and freedom in.</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=420649" data-title="The Battle Autumn of 1862 de John Greenleaf Whittier" data-description="The flags of war like storm birds fly,
The charging trumpets blow; 
Yet rolls no thunder in the sky,
No earthquake strives below.

And, calm and patient, Nature keeps
Her ancient promises well,
Though o'er her bloom and greenness sweeps,
The battl..."></div>
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