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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=427389" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Bronx</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I SAT me down upon a green bank-side, <br>Skirting the smooth edge of a gentle river, <br>Whose waters seemed unwillingly to glide, <br>Like parting friends who linger while they sever; <br>Enforced to go, yet seeming still unready, <br>Backward they wind their way in many a wistful eddy. <br> <br>Gray o'er my head the yellow-vested willow <br>Ruffled its hoary top in the fresh breezes, <br>Glancing in light, like spray on a green billow, <br>Or the fine frost-work which young winter freezes; <br>When first his power in infant pastime trying, <br>Congeals sad autumn's tears on the dead branches lying. <br> <br>From rocks around hung the loose ivy dangling, <br>And in the clefts sumach of liveliest green, <br>Bright ising-stars the little beach was spangling, <br>The gold-cup sorrel from his gauzy screen <br>Shone like a fairy crown, enchased and beaded, <br>Left on some morn, when light flashed in their eyes unheeded. <br> <br>The hum-bird shook his sun-touched wings around, <br>The bluefinch caroll'd in the still retreat; <br>The antic squirrel capered on the ground <br>Where lichens made a carpet for his feet: <br>Through the transparent waves, the ruddy minkle <br>Shot up in glimmering sparks his red fin's tiny twinkle. <br> <br>There were dark cedars with loose mossy tresses, <br>White powdered dog-trees, and stiff hollies flaunting <br>Gaudy as rustics in their May-day dresses, <br>Blue pelloret from purple leaves upslanting <br>A modest gaze, like eyes of a young maiden <br>Shining beneath dropt lids the evening of her wedding. <br> <br>The breeze fresh springing from the lips of morn, <br>Kissing the leaves, and sighing so to lose 'em, <br>The winding of the merry locust's horn, <br>The glad spring gushing from the rock's bare bosom: <br>Sweet sights, sweet sounds, all sights, all sounds excelling, <br>Oh! 'twas a ravishing spot formed for a poet's dwelling. <br> <br>And did I leave thy loveliness, to stand <br>Again in the dull world of earthly blindness? <br>Pained with the pressure of unfriendly hands, <br>Sick of smooth looks, agued with icy kindness? <br>Left I for this thy shades, were none intrude, <br>To prison wandering thought and mar sweet solitude? <br> <br>Yet I will look upon thy face again, <br>My own romantic Bronx, and it will be <br>A face more pleasant than the face of men. <br>Thy waves are old companions, I shall see <br>A well-remembered form in each old tree, <br>And hear a voice long loved in thy wild minstrelsy.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Joseph+Rodman+Drake">Joseph Rodman Drake</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=427389" data-title="Bronx de Joseph Rodman Drake" data-description="I SAT me down upon a green bank-side, 
Skirting the smooth edge of a gentle river, 
Whose waters seemed unwillingly to glide, 
Like parting friends who linger while they sever; 
Enforced to go, yet seeming still unready, 
Backward they wind their ..."></div>
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