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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476355" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Wayfarer</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I. THE TREES<br>THERE is no glory of the sunset here!<br>Heavy the clouds upon the darkening road,<br>And heavy, too, the wind upon the trees!<br>The trees sway, making moan<br>Continuous, like breaking seas.<br>impotent, bare things,<br>You give at last the very cry of earth!<br>I walk this darkening road in solemn mood:<br>Within deep hell came Dante to a wood<br>Like him I marvel at the crying trees!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>II. THE STAR<br>A mighty star anear has drawn and now<br>Is vibrant on the air</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The half-divested, trembling trees of his<br>Bright presence are aware</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Below within the stream I him behold<br>Between the marge and main -</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My bone and flesh, what dust they'll be when he,<br>That star, dips here again!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>III. THE CAPTIVE ARCHER<br>To-morrow I will bend the bow:<br>My soul shall have her mark again,<br>My bosom feel the archer's strain.<br>No longer pacing to and fro<br>With idle hands and listless brain:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As goes the arrow, forth I go.<br>My soul shall have her mark again,<br>My bosom feel the archer's strain.<br>To-morrow I will bend the bow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>IV. TRIUMPHATORS<br>The drivers in the sunset race<br>Their coal-carts over cobble-stones<br>Not draymen but tnumphators:<br>Their bags are left with Smith and Jones,<br>They let the horses take their stride,<br>Which toss their forelocks in their pride.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Not blue nor green these factions wear<br>Which make career o'er Dublin stones;<br>But Pluto his own livery<br>Is what each whip-carrier owns.<br>The Caesar of the cab-rank, I<br>Salute the triumph speeding by.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Padraic+Colum">Padraic Colum</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=476355" data-title="The Wayfarer de Padraic Colum" data-description="I. THE TREES
THERE is no glory of the sunset here!
Heavy the clouds upon the darkening road,
And heavy, too, the wind upon the trees!
The trees sway, making moan
Continuous, like breaking seas.
impotent, bare things,
You give at last the very cry ..."></div>
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