<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=428720" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Old Love</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Out of my door I step into<br>The country, all her scent and dew,<br>Nor travel there by a hard road,<br>Dusty and far from my abode.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The country washes to my door<br>Green miles on miles in soft uproar,<br>The thunder of the woods, and then<br>The backwash of green surf again.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Beyond the feverfew and stocks,<br>The guelder-rose and hollyhocks;<br>Outside my trellised porch a tree<br>Of lilac frames a sky for me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A stretch of primrose and pale green<br>To hold the tender Hesper in;<br>Hesper that by the moon makes pale<br>Her silver keel and silver sail.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The country silence wraps me quite,<br>Silence and song and pure delight;<br>The country beckons all the day<br>Smiling, and but a step away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This is that country seen across<br>How many a league of love and loss,<br>Prayed for and longed for, and as far<br>As fountains in the desert are.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This is that country at my door,<br>Whose fragrant airs run on before,<br>And call me when the first birds stir<br>In the green wood to walk with her.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Katharine+Tynan">Katharine Tynan</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=428720" data-title="The Old Love de Katharine Tynan" data-description="Out of my door I step into The country, all her scent and dew, Nor travel there by a hard road, Dusty and far from my abode. The country washes to my door Green miles on miles in soft uproar, The thunder of the woods, and then The backwash of gre..."></div> </div> </div>

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