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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=447623" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Thoughts Of Christmas-Day In India</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">IT is Christmas, and the sunshine <br>Lies golden on the fields,<br>And flowers of white and purple<br>Yonder fragrant creeper yields.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Like the plumes of some bold warrior,<br>The cocoa-tree on high,<br>Lifts aloft its feathery branches,<br>Amid the deep blue sky.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From yonder shadowy peepul,<br>The pale fair lilac dove,<br>Like music from a temple,<br>Sings a song of grief and love.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The earth is bright with blossoms,<br>And a thousand jewelled wings,<br>Mid the green boughs of the tamarind<br>A sudden sunshine flings.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For the East, is earth's first-born,<br>And hath a glorious dower,<br>As Nature there had lavished<br>Her beauty and her power.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And yet I pine for England,<br>For my own—my distant home:<br>My heart is in that island,<br>Where'er my steps may roam.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It is merry there at Christmas—<br>We have no Christmas here;<br>'Tis a weary thing, a summer<br>That lasts throughout the year</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I remember how the banners<br>Hung round our ancient hall,<br>Bound with wreaths of shining holly,<br>Brave winter's coronal.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And above each rusty helmet<br>Waved a new and cheering plume,<br>A branch of crimson berries,<br>And the latest rose in bloom.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And the white and pearly misletoe<br>Hung half concealed o'er head,<br>I remember one sweet maiden,<br>Whose cheek it dyed with red.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The morning waked with carols,<br>A young and joyous band<br>Of small and rosy songsters,<br>Came tripping hand in hand.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And sang beneath our windows<br>Just as the round red sun<br>Began to melt the hoar-frost,<br>And the clear cold day begun.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And at night the aged harper<br>Played his old tunes o'er and o'er;<br>From sixteen up to sixty,<br>All were dancing on that floor.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Those were the days of childhood,<br>The buoyant and the bright;<br>When hope was life's sweet sovereign,<br>And the heart and step were light.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I shall come again—a stranger<br>To all that once I knew,<br>For the hurried steps of manhood<br>From life's flowers have dash'd the dew.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I yet may ask their welcome,<br>And return from whence I came;<br>But a change is wrought within me,<br>They will not seem the same</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For my spirits are grown weary,<br>And my days of youth are o'er,<br>And the mirth of that glad season<br>Is what I can feel no more.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Letitia+Elizabeth+Landon">Letitia Elizabeth Landon</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=447623" data-title="Thoughts Of Christmas-Day In India de Letitia Elizabeth Landon" data-description="IT is Christmas, and the sunshine 
Lies golden on the fields,
And flowers of white and purple
Yonder fragrant creeper yields.

Like the plumes of some bold warrior,
The cocoa-tree on high,
Lifts aloft its feathery branches,
Amid the deep blue sky...."></div>
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