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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538046" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Count Of Griers</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">FROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>At morn the Count of Greiers before his castle stands;<br>He sees afar the glory that lights the mountain lands;<br>The horned crags are shining, and in the shade between<br>A pleasant Alpine valley lies beautifully green.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Oh, greenest of the valleys, how shall I come to thee!<br>Thy herdsmen and thy maidens, how happy must they be!<br>I have gazed upon thee coldly, all lovely as thou art,<br>But the wish to walk thy pastures now stirs my inmost heart.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He hears a sound of timbrels, and suddenly appear<br>A troop of ruddy damsels and herdsmen drawing near;<br>They reach the castle greensward, and gayly dance across;<br>The white sleeves flit and glimmer, the wreaths and ribands toss.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The youngest of the maidens, slim as a spray of spring,<br>She takes the young count's fingers, and draws him to the ring,<br>They fling upon his forehead a crown of mountain flowers,<br>'And ho, young Count of Greiers! this morning thou art ours!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then hand in hand departing, with dance and roundelay,<br>Through hamlet after hamlet, they lead the Count away.<br>They dance through wood and meadow, they dance across the linn,<br>Till the mighty Alpine summits have shut the music in.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The second morn is risen, and now the third is come;<br>Where stays the Count of Greiers? has he forgot his home?<br>Again the evening closes, in thick and sultry air;<br>There's thunder on the mountains, the storm is gathering there.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The cloud has shed its waters, the brook comes swollen down;<br>You see it by the lightning--a river wide and brown.<br>Around a struggling swimmer the eddies dash and roar,<br>Till, seizing on a willow, he leaps upon the shore.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Here am I cast by tempests far from your mountain dell.<br>Amid our evening dances the bursting deluge fell.<br>Ye all, in cots and caverns, have 'scaped the water-spout,<br>While me alone the tempest o'erwhelmed and hurried out.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Farewell, with thy glad dwellers, green vale among the rocks!<br>Farewell the swift sweet moments, in which I watched thy flocks!<br>Why rocked they not my cradle in that delicious spot,<br>That garden of the happy, where Heaven endures me not?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Rose of the Alpine valley! I feel, in every vein,<br>Thy soft touch on my fingers; oh, press them not again!<br>Bewitch me not, ye garlands, to tread that upward track,<br>And thou, my cheerless mansion, receive thy master back.'</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=538046" data-title="The Count Of Griers de William Cullen Bryant" data-description="FROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND.


At morn the Count of Greiers before his castle stands;
He sees afar the glory that lights the mountain lands;
The horned crags are shining, and in the shade between
A pleasant Alpine valley lies beautifully green.

'Oh..."></div>
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