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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=540067" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Nutting</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">---------------------It seems a day <br>(I speak of one from many singled out) <br>One of those heavenly days that cannot die; <br>When, in the eagerness of boyish hope, <br>I left our cottage-threshold, sallying forth <br>With a huge wallet o'er my shoulders slung, <br>A nutting-crook in hand; and turned my steps <br>Tow'rd some far-distant wood, a Figure quaint, <br>Tricked out in proud disguise of cast-off weeds <br>Which for that service had been husbanded, <br>By exhortation of my frugal Dame-- <br>Motley accoutrement, of power to smile <br>At thorns, and brakes, and brambles,--and, in truth, <br>More ragged than need was! O'er pathless rocks, <br>Through beds of matted fern, and tangled thickets, <br>Forcing my way, I came to one dear nook <br>Unvisited, where not a broken bough <br>Drooped with its withered leaves, ungracious sign <br>Of devastation; but the hazels rose <br>Tall and erect, with tempting clusters hung, <br>A virgin scene!--A little while I stood, <br>Breathing with such suppression of the heart <br>As joy delights in; and, with wise restraint <br>Voluptuous, fearless of a rival, eyed <br>The banquet;--or beneath the trees I sate <br>Among the flowers, and with the flowers I played; <br>A temper known to those, who, after long <br>And weary expectation, have been blest <br>With sudden happiness beyond all hope. <br>Perhaps it was a bower beneath whose leaves <br>The violets of five seasons re-appear <br>And fade, unseen by any human eye; <br>Where fairy water-breaks do murmur on <br>For ever; and I saw the sparkling foam, <br>And--with my cheek on one of those green stones <br>That, fleeced with moss, under the shady trees, <br>Lay round me, scattered like a flock of sheep-- <br>I heard the murmur and the murmuring sound, <br>In that sweet mood when pleasure loves to pay <br>Tribute to ease; and, of its joy secure, <br>The heart luxuriates with indifferent things, <br>Wasting its kindliness on stocks and stones, <br>And on the vacant air. Then up I rose, <br>And dragged to earth both branch and bough, with crash <br>And merciless ravage: and the shady nook <br>Of hazels, and the green and mossy bower, <br>Deformed and sullied, patiently gave up <br>Their quiet being: and, unless I now <br>Confound my present feelings with the past; <br>Ere from the mutilated bower I turned <br>Exulting, rich beyond the wealth of kings, <br>I felt a sense of pain when I beheld <br>The silent trees, and saw the intruding sky-- <br>Then, dearest Maiden, move along these shades <br>In gentleness of heart; with gentle hand <br>Touch--for there is a spirit in the woods.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Wordsworth">William Wordsworth</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=540067" data-title="Nutting de William Wordsworth" data-description="---------------------It seems a day 
(I speak of one from many singled out) 
One of those heavenly days that cannot die; 
When, in the eagerness of boyish hope, 
I left our cottage-threshold, sallying forth 
With a huge wallet o'er my shoulders sl..."></div>
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