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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=480884" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Forerunners</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">LONG I followed happy guides,<br>I could never reach their sides;<br>Their step is forth, and, ere the day<br>Breaks up their leaguer, and away.<br>Keen my sense, my heart was young, <br>Right good-will my sinews strung,<br>But no speed of mine avails<br>To hunt upon their shining trails.<br>On and away, their hasting feet<br>Make the morning proud and sweet; <br>Flowers they strew,—I catch the scent;<br>Or tone of silver instrument<br>Leaves on the wind melodious trace;<br>Yet I could never see their face.<br>On eastern hills I see their smokes, <br>Mixed with mist by distant lochs.<br>I met many travellers<br>Who the road had surely kept;<br>They saw not my fine revellers,—<br>These had crossed them while they slept. <br>Some had heard their fair report,<br>In the country or the court.<br>Fleetest couriers alive<br>Never yet could once arrive,<br>As they went or they returned, <br>At the house where these sojourned.<br>Sometimes their strong speed they slacken.<br>Though they are not overtaken;<br>In sleep their jubilant troop is near,—<br>I tuneful voices overhear; <br>It may be in wood or waste,—<br>At unawares ’t is come and past.<br>Their near camp my spirit knows<br>By signs gracious as rainbows.<br>I thenceforward and long after, <br>Listen for their harp-like laughter<br>And carry in my heart, for days,<br>Peace that hallows rudest ways.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ralph+Waldo+Emerson">Ralph Waldo Emerson</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=480884" data-title="Forerunners de Ralph Waldo Emerson" data-description="LONG I followed happy guides,
I could never reach their sides;
Their step is forth, and, ere the day
Breaks up their leaguer, and away.
Keen my sense, my heart was young, 
Right good-will my sinews strung,
But no speed of mine avails
To hunt upon ..."></div>
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