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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=537995" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Walk at Sunset</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">When insect wings are glistening in the beam<br>Of the low sun, and mountain-tops are bright,<br>Oh, let me, by the crystal valley-stream,<br>Wander amid the mild and mellow light;<br>And while the wood-thrush pipes his evening lay,<br>Give me one lonely hour to hymn the setting day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, sun! that o'er the western mountains now<br>Goest down in glory! ever beautiful<br>And blessed is thy radiance, whether thou<br>Colourest the eastern heaven and night-mist cool,<br>Till the bright day-star vanish, or on high<br>Climbest and streamest thy white splendours from mid-sky.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet, loveliest are thy setting smiles, and fair,<br>Fairest of all that earth beholds, the hues<br>That live among the clouds, and flush the air,<br>Lingering and deepening at the hour of dews.<br>Then softest gales are breathed, and softest heard<br>The plaining voice of streams, and pensive note of bird.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They who here roamed, of yore, the forest wide,<br>Felt, by such charm, their simple bosoms won;<br>They deemed their quivered warrior, when he died,<br>Went to bright isles beneath the setting sun;<br>Where winds are aye at peace, and skies are fair,<br>And purple-skirted clouds curtain the crimson air.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So, with the glories of the dying day,<br>Its thousand trembling lights and changing hues,<br>The memory of the brave who passed away<br>Tenderly mingled;--fitting hour to muse<br>On such grave theme, and sweet the dream that shed<br>Brightness and beauty round the destiny of the dead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For ages, on the silent forests here,<br>Thy beams did fall before the red man came<br>To dwell beneath them; in their shade the deer<br>Fed, and feared not the arrow's deadly aim.<br>Nor tree was felled, in all that world of woods,<br>Save by the beaver's tooth, or winds, or rush of floods.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then came the hunter tribes, and thou didst look,<br>For ages, on their deeds in the hard chase,<br>And well-fought wars; green sod and silver brook<br>Took the first stain of blood; before thy face<br>The warrior generations came and passed,<br>And glory was laid up for many an age to last.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now they are gone, gone as thy setting blaze<br>Goes down the west, while night is pressing on,<br>And with them the old tale of better days,<br>And trophies of remembered power, are gone.<br>Yon field that gives the harvest, where the plough<br>Strikes the white bone, is all that tells their story now.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I stand upon their ashes in thy beam,<br>The offspring of another race, I stand,<br>Beside a stream they loved, this valley stream;<br>And where the night-fire of the quivered band<br>Showed the gray oak by fits, and war-song rung,<br>I teach the quiet shades the strains of this new tongue.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Farewell! but thou shalt come again--thy light<br>Must shine on other changes, and behold<br>The place of the thronged city still as night--<br>States fallen--new empires built upon the old--<br>But never shalt thou see these realms again<br>Darkened by boundless groves, and roamed by savage men.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Cullen+Bryant">William Cullen Bryant</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=537995" data-title="A Walk at Sunset de William Cullen Bryant" data-description="When insect wings are glistening in the beam
Of the low sun, and mountain-tops are bright,
Oh, let me, by the crystal valley-stream,
Wander amid the mild and mellow light;
And while the wood-thrush pipes his evening lay,
Give me one lonely hour to..."></div>
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