<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=519179" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Solitary Woodsman</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">When the grey lake-water rushes<br> Past the dripping alder-bushes,<br> And the bodeful autumn wind<br> In the fir-tree weeps and hushes, -- <br> When the air is sharply damp<br> Round the solitary camp,<br> And the moose-bush in the thicket <br> Glimmers like a scarlet lamp, -- <br> When the birches twinkle yellow,<br> And the cornel bunches mellow,<br> And the owl across the twilight <br> Trumpets to his downy fellow, -- </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> When the nut-fed chipmunks romp<br> Through the maples' crimson pomp,<br> And the slim viburnum flushes <br> In the darkness of the swamp, -- </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> When the blueberries are dead,<br> When the rowan clusters red,<br> And the shy bear, summer-sleekened, <br> In the bracken makes his bed, -- </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> On a day there comes once more<br> To the latched and lonely door,<br> Down the wood-road striding silent, <br> One who has been here before.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Green spruce branches for his head,<br> Here he makes his simple bed,<br> Crouching with the sun, and rising <br> When the dawn is frosty red.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> All day long he wanders wide<br> With the grey moss for his guide,<br> And his lonely axe-stroke startles <br> The expectant forest-side.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Toward the quiet close of day<br> Back to camp he takes his way,<br> And about his sober footsteps <br> Unafraid the squirrels play.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> On his roof the red leaf falls,<br> At his door the bluejay calls,<br> And he hears the wood-mice hurry <br> Up and down his rough log walls;</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Hears the laughter of the loon<br> Thrill the dying afternoon; <br> Hears the calling of the moose <br> Echo to the early moon.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And he hears the partridge drumming,<br> The belated hornet humming, -- <br> All the faint, prophetic sounds <br> That foretell the winter's coming.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And the wind about his eaves<br> Through the chilly night-wet grieves,<br> And the earth's dumb patience fills him, <br> Fellow to the falling leaves.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Sir+Charles+George+Douglas+Roberts">Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts</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=519179" data-title="The Solitary Woodsman de Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts" data-description="When the grey lake-water rushes Past the dripping alder-bushes, And the bodeful autumn wind In the fir-tree weeps and hushes, -- When the air is sharply damp Round the solitary camp, And the moose-bush in the thicket Glimmers like a scarl..."></div> </div> </div>

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