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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=540178" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Trosachs</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">THERE 's not a nook within this solemn Pass, <br> But were an apt confessional for one <br> Taught by his summer spent, his autumn gone, <br>That Life is but a tale of morning grass <br>Wither'd at eve. From scenes of art which chase <br> That thought away, turn, and with watchful eyes <br> Feed it 'mid Nature's old felicities, <br>Rocks, rivers, and smooth lakes more clear than glass <br>Untouch'd, unbreathed upon. Thrice happy quest, <br> If from a golden perch of aspen spray <br> (October's workmanship to rival May) <br>The pensive warbler of the ruddy breast <br> That moral sweeten by a heaven-taught lay, <br>Lulling the year, with all its cares, to rest!</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> <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=540178" data-title="The Trosachs de William Wordsworth" data-description="THERE 's not a nook within this solemn Pass, But were an apt confessional for one Taught by his summer spent, his autumn gone, That Life is but a tale of morning grass Wither'd at eve. From scenes of art whi..."></div> </div> </div>
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