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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420788" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Rock-Tomb Of Bradore</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A DREAR and desolate shore!<br>Where no tree unfolds its leaves,<br>And never the spring wind weaves<br>Green grass for the hunter's tread;<br>A land forsaken and dead,<br>Where the ghostly icebergs go<br>And come with the ebb and flow<br>Of the waters of Bradore!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A wanderer, from a land<br>By summer breezes fanned,<br>Looked round him, awed, subdued,<br>By the dreadful solitude,<br>Hearing alone the cry<br>Of sea-birds clanging by,<br>The crash and grind of the floe,<br>Wail of wind and wash of tide.<br>'O wretched land!' he cried,<br>'Land of all lands the worst,<br>God forsaken and curst!<br>Thy gates of rock should show<br>The words the Tuscan seer<br>Read in the Realm of Woe<br>Hope entereth not here!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lo! at his feet there stood<br>A block of smooth larch wood,<br>Waif of some wandering wave,<br>Beside a rock-closed cave<br>By Nature fashioned for a grave;<br>Safe from the ravening bear<br>And fierce fowl of the air,<br>Wherein to rest was laid<br>A twenty summers' maid,<br>Whose blood had equal share<br>Of the lands of vine and snow,<br>Half French, half Eskimo.<br>In letters uneffaced,<br>Upon the block were traced<br>The grief and hope of man,<br>And thus the legend ran<br>'We loved her!<br>Words cannot tell how well!<br>We loved her!<br>God loved her!<br>And called her home to peace and rest.<br>We love her.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The stranger paused and read.<br>'O winter land!' he said,<br>'Thy right to be I own;<br>God leaves thee not alone.<br>And if thy fierce winds blow<br>Over drear wastes of rock and snow,<br>And at thy iron gates<br>The ghostly iceberg waits,<br>Thy homes and hearts are dear.<br>Thy sorrow o'er thy sacred dust<br>Is sanctified by hope and trust;<br>God's love and man's are here.<br>And love where'er it goes<br>Makes its own atmosphere;<br>Its flowers of Paradise<br>Take root in the eternal ice,<br>And bloom through Polar snows!'</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=420788" data-title="The Rock-Tomb Of Bradore de John Greenleaf Whittier" data-description="A DREAR and desolate shore!
Where no tree unfolds its leaves,
And never the spring wind weaves
Green grass for the hunter's tread;
A land forsaken and dead,
Where the ghostly icebergs go
And come with the ebb and flow
Of the waters of Bradore!

A ..."></div>
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