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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455746" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Chillingham</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I<br>Through the sunny garden<br>The humming bees are still;<br>The fir climbs the heather,<br>The heather climbs the hill.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The low clouds have riven<br>A little rift through.<br>The hill climbs to heaven,<br>Far away and blue.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">II</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O the high valley, the little low hill,<br>And the cornfield over the sea,<br>The wind that rages and then lies still,<br>And the clouds that rest and flee!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O the gray island in the rainbow haze,<br>And the long thin spits of land,<br>The roughening pastures and the stony ways,<br>And the golden flash of the sand!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O the red heather on the moss-wrought rock,<br>And the fir-tree stiff and straight,<br>The shaggy old sheep-dog barking at the flock,<br>And the rotten old five-barred gate!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O the brown bracken, the blackberry bough,<br>The scent of the gorse in the air!<br>I shall love them ever as I love them now,<br>I shall weary in Heaven to be there!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>III</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Strike, Life, a happy hour, and let me live<br>But in that grace!<br>I shall have gathered all the world can give,<br>Unending Time and Space!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bring light and air--the thin and shining air<br>Of the North land,<br>The light that falls on tower and garden there,<br>Close to the gold sea-sand.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bring flowers, the latest colours of the earth,<br>Ere nun-like frost<br>Lay her hard hand upon this rainbow mirth,<br>With twinkling emerald crossed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The white star of the traveller's joy, the deep<br>Empurpled rays that hide the smoky stone,<br>The dahlia rooted in Egyptian sleep,<br>The last frail rose alone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let music whisper from a casement set<br>By them of old,<br>Where the light smell of lavender may yet<br>Rise from the soft loose mould.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then shall I know, with eyes and ears awake,<br>Not in bright gleams,<br>The joy my Heavenly Father joys to make<br>For men who grieve, in dreams!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mary+Elizabeth+Coleridge">Mary Elizabeth Coleridge</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=455746" data-title="Chillingham de Mary Elizabeth Coleridge" data-description="I
Through the sunny garden
The humming bees are still;
The fir climbs the heather,
The heather climbs the hill.

The low clouds have riven
A little rift through.
The hill climbs to heaven,
Far away and blue.

II

O the high valley, the little low ..."></div>
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