<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=535138" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sparkles From The Wheel</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">WHERE the city's ceaseless crowd moves on, the live-long day,<br> Withdrawn, I join a group of children watching--I pause aside with<br> them.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> By the curb, toward the edge of the flagging,<br> A knife-grinder works at his wheel, sharpening a great knife;<br> Bending over, he carefully holds it to the stone--by foot and knee,<br> With measur'd tread, he turns rapidly--As he presses with light but<br> firm hand,<br> Forth issue, then, in copious golden jets,<br> Sparkles from the wheel.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> The scene, and all its belongings--how they seize and affect me!<br> The sad, sharp-chinn'd old man, with worn clothes, and broad<br> shoulder-band of leather; 10<br> Myself, effusing and fluid--a phantom curiously floating--now here<br> absorb'd and arrested;</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The group, (an unminded point, set in a vast surrounding;)<br> The attentive, quiet children--the loud, proud, restive base of the<br> streets;<br> The low, hoarse purr of the whirling stone--the light-press'd blade,<br> Diffusing, dropping, sideways-darting, in tiny showers of gold,<br> Sparkles from the wheel.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Walt+Whitman">Walt Whitman</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=535138" data-title="Sparkles From The Wheel de Walt Whitman" data-description="WHERE the city's ceaseless crowd moves on, the live-long day, Withdrawn, I join a group of children watching--I pause aside with them. By the curb, toward the edge of the flagging, A knife-grinder works at his wheel, sharpening a great knife;..."></div> </div> </div>

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