<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538062" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Hunter's Serenade</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thy bower is finished, fairest!<br>Fit bower for hunter's bride--<br>Where old woods overshadow<br>The green savanna's side.<br>I've wandered long, and wandered far,<br>And never have I met,<br>In all this lovely western land,<br>A spot so lovely yet.<br>But I shall think it fairer,<br>When thou art come to bless,<br>With thy sweet smile and silver voice,<br>Its silent loveliness.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For thee the wild grape glistens,<br>On sunny knoll and tree,<br>The slim papaya ripens<br>Its yellow fruit for thee.<br>For thee the duck, on glassy stream,<br>The prairie-fowl shall die,<br>My rifle for thy feast shall bring<br>The wild swan from the sky.<br>The forest's leaping panther,<br>Fierce, beautiful, and fleet,<br>Shall yield his spotted hide to be<br>A carpet for thy feet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I know, for thou hast told me,<br>Thy maiden love of flowers;<br>Ah, those that deck thy gardens<br>Are pale compared with ours.<br>When our wide woods and mighty lawns<br>Bloom to the April skies,<br>The earth has no more gorgeous sight<br>To show to human eyes.<br>In meadows red with blossoms,<br>All summer long, the bee<br>Murmurs, and loads his yellow thighs,<br>For thee, my love, and me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Or wouldst thou gaze at tokens<br>Of ages long ago--<br>Our old oaks stream with mosses,<br>And sprout with mistletoe;<br>And mighty vines, like serpents, climb<br>The giant sycamore;<br>And trunks, o'erthrown for centuries,<br>Cumber the forest floor;<br>And in the great savanna,<br>The solitary mound,<br>Built by the elder world, o'erlooks<br>The loneliness around.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Come, thou hast not forgotten<br>Thy pledge and promise quite,<br>With many blushes murmured,<br>Beneath the evening light.<br>Come, the young violets crowd my door,<br>Thy earliest look to win,<br>And at my silent window-sill<br>The jessamine peeps in.<br>All day the red-bird warbles,<br>Upon the mulberry near,<br>And the night-sparrow trills her song,<br>All night, with none to hear.</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> <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=538062" data-title="The Hunter's Serenade de William Cullen Bryant" data-description="Thy bower is finished, fairest! Fit bower for hunter's bride-- Where old woods overshadow The green savanna's side. I've wandered long, and wandered far, And never have I met, In all this lovely western land, A spot so lovely yet. But I shall thin..."></div> </div> </div>

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