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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=540218" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To Joanna</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Amid the smoke of cities did you pass <br>The time of early youth; and there you learned, <br>From years of quiet industry, to love <br>The living Beings by your own fireside, <br>With such a strong devotion, that your heart <br>Is slow to meet the sympathies of them <br>Who look upon the hills with tenderness, <br>And make dear friendships with the streams and groves. <br>Yet we, who are transgressors in this kind, <br>Dwelling retired in our simplicity <br>Among the woods and fields, we love you well, <br>Joanna! and I guess, since you have been <br>So distant from us now for two long years, <br>That you will gladly listen to discourse, <br>However trivial, if you thence be taught <br>That they, with whom you once were happy, talk <br>Familiarly of you and of old times. <br>While I was seated, now some ten days past, <br>Beneath those lofty firs, that overtop <br>Their ancient neighbour, the old steeple-tower, <br>The Vicar from his gloomy house hard by <br>Came forth to greet me; and when he had asked, <br>&quot;How fares Joanna, that wild-hearted Maid! <br>And when will she return to us?&quot; he paused; <br>And, after short exchange of village news, <br>He with grave looks demanded, for what cause, <br>Reviving obsolete idolatry, <br>I, like a Runic Priest, in characters <br>Of formidable size had chiselled out <br>Some uncouth name upon the native rock, <br>Above the Rotha, by the forest-side. <br>--Now, by those dear immunities of heart <br>Engendered between malice and true love, <br>I was not loth to be so catechised, <br>And this was my reply:--&quot;As it befell, <br>One summer morning we had walked abroad <br>At break of day, Joanna and myself. <br>--'Twas that delightful season when the broom, <br>Full-flowered, and visible on every steep, <br>Along the copses runs in veins of gold. <br>Our pathway led us on to Rotha's banks; <br>And when we came in front of that tall rock <br>That eastward looks, I there stopped short--and stood <br>Tracing the lofty barrier with my eye <br>From base to summit; such delight I found <br>To note in shrub and tree, in stone and flower <br>That intermixture of delicious hues, <br>Along so vast a surface, all at once, <br>In one impression, by connecting force <br>Of their own beauty, imaged in the heart. <br>--When I had gazed perhaps two minutes' space, <br>Joanna, looking in my eyes, beheld <br>That ravishment of mine, and laughed aloud. <br>The Rock, like something starting from a sleep, <br>Took up the Lady's voice, and laughed again; <br>That ancient Woman seated on Helm-crag <br>Was ready with her cavern; Hammar-scar, <br>And the tall Steep of Silver-how, sent forth <br>A noise of laughter; southern Loughrigg heard, <br>And Fairfield answered with a mountain tone; <br>Helvellyn far into the clear blue sky <br>Carried the Lady's voice,--old Skiddaw blew <br>His speaking-trumpet;--back out of the clouds <br>Of Glaramara southward came the voice; <br>And Kirkstone tossed it from his misty head. <br>--Now whether (said I to our cordial Friend, <br>Who in the hey-day of astonishment <br>Smiled in my face) this were in simple truth <br>A work accomplished by the brotherhood <br>Of ancient mountains, or my ear was touched <br>With dreams and visionary impulses <br>To me alone imparted, sure I am <br>That there was a loud uproar in the hills. <br>And, while we both were listening, to my side <br>The fair Joanna drew, as if she wished <br>To shelter from some object of her fear. <br>--And hence, long afterwards, when eighteen moons <br>Were wasted, as I chanced to walk alone <br>Beneath this rock, at sunrise, on a calm <br>And silent morning, I sat down, and there, <br>In memory of affections old and true, <br>I chiselled out in those rude characters <br>Joanna's name deep in the living stone:-- <br>And I, and all who dwell by my fireside, <br>Have called the lovely rock, JOANNA'S ROCK.&quot;</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=540218" data-title="To Joanna de William Wordsworth" data-description="Amid the smoke of cities did you pass 
The time of early youth; and there you learned, 
From years of quiet industry, to love 
The living Beings by your own fireside, 
With such a strong devotion, that your heart 
Is slow to meet the sympathies of..."></div>
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