Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=540259" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>When To The Attractions Of The Busy World</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">WHEN, to the attractions of the busy world,<br>Preferring studious leisure, I had chosen<br>A habitation in this peaceful Vale,<br>Sharp season followed of continual storm<br>In deepest winter; and, from week to week,<br>Pathway, and lane, and public road, were clogged<br>With frequent showers of snow. Upon a hill<br>At a short distance from my cottage, stands<br>A stately Fir-grove, whither I was wont<br>To hasten, for I found, beneath the roof <br>Of that perennial shade, a cloistral place<br>Of refuge, with an unincumbered floor.<br>Here, in safe covert, on the shallow snow,<br>And, sometimes, on a speck of visible earth,<br>The redbreast near me hopped; nor was I loth<br>To sympathise with vulgar coppice birds<br>That, for protection from the nipping blast,<br>Hither repaired.--A single beech-tree grew<br>Within this grove of firs! and, on the fork<br>Of that one beech, appeared a thrush's nest; <br>A last year's nest, conspicuously built<br>At such small elevation from the ground<br>As gave sure sign that they, who in that house<br>Of nature and of love had made their home<br>Amid the fir-trees, all the summer long<br>Dwelt in a tranquil spot. And oftentimes,<br>A few sheep, stragglers from some mountain-flock,<br>Would watch my motions with suspicious stare,<br>From the remotest outskirts of the grove,--<br>Some nook where they had made their final stand, <br>Huddling together from two fears--the fear<br>Of me and of the storm. Full many an hour<br>Here did I lose. But in this grove the trees<br>Had been so thickly planted, and had thriven<br>In such perplexed and intricate array;<br>That vainly did I seek, beneath their stems<br>A length of open space, where to and fro<br>My feet might move without concern or care;<br>And, baffled thus, though earth from day to day<br>Was fettered, and the air by storm disturbed, <br>I ceased the shelter to frequent,--and prized,<br>Less than I wished to prize, that calm recess.<br>The snows dissolved, and genial Spring returned<br>To clothe the fields with verdure. Other haunts<br>Meanwhile were mine; till, one bright April day,<br>By chance retiring from the glare of noon<br>To this forsaken covert, there I found<br>A hoary pathway traced between the trees,<br>And winding on with such an easy line<br>Along a natural opening, that I stood <br>Much wondering how I could have sought in vain<br>For what was now so obvious. To abide,<br>For an allotted interval of ease,<br>Under my cottage-roof, had gladly come<br>From the wild sea a cherished Visitant;<br>And with the sight of this same path--begun,<br>Begun and ended, in the shady grove,<br>Pleasant conviction flashed upon my mind<br>That, to this opportune recess allured,<br>He had surveyed it with a finer eye, <br>A heart more wakeful; and had worn the track<br>By pacing here, unwearied and alone,<br>In that habitual restlessness of foot<br>That haunts the Sailor measuring o'er and o'er<br>His short domain upon the vessel's deck,<br>While she pursues her course through the dreary sea.<br>When thou hadst quitted Esthwaite's pleasant shore,<br>And taken thy first leave of those green hills<br>And rocks that were the play-ground of thy youth,<br>Year followed year, my Brother! and we two, <br>Conversing not, knew little in what mould<br>Each other's mind was fashioned; and at length,<br>When once again we met in Grasmere Vale,<br>Between us there was little other bond<br>Than common feelings of fraternal love.<br>But thou, a Schoolboy, to the sea hadst carried<br>Undying recollections! Nature there<br>Was with thee; she, who loved us both, she still<br>Was with thee; and even so didst thou become<br>A 'silent' Poet; from the solitude <br>Of the vast sea didst bring a watchful heart<br>Still couchant, an inevitable ear,<br>And an eye practised like a blind man's touch.<br>--Back to the joyless Ocean thou art gone;<br>Nor from this vestige of thy musing hours<br>Could I withhold thy honoured name,--and now<br>I love the fir-grove with a perfect love.<br>Thither do I withdraw when cloudless suns<br>Shine hot, or wind blows troublesome and strong;<br>And there I sit at evening, when the steep <br>Of Silver-how, and Grasmere's peaceful lake,<br>And one green island, gleam between the stems<br>Of the dark firs, a visionary scene!<br>And, while I gaze upon the spectacle<br>Of clouded splendour, on this dream-like sight<br>Of solemn loveliness, I think on thee,<br>My Brother, and on all which thou hast lost.<br>Nor seldom, if I rightly guess, while Thou,<br>Muttering the verses which I muttered first<br>Among the mountains, through the midnight watch <br>Art pacing thoughtfully the vessel's deck<br>In some far region, here, while o'er my head,<br>At every impulse of the moving breeze,<br>The fir-grove murmurs with a sea-like sound,<br>Alone I tread this path;--for aught I know,<br>Timing my steps to thine; and, with a store<br>Of undistinguishable sympathies,<br>Mingling most earnest wishes for the day<br>When we, and others whom we love, shall meet<br>A second time, in Grasmere's happy Vale.</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=540259" data-title="When To The Attractions Of The Busy World de William Wordsworth" data-description="WHEN, to the attractions of the busy world,
Preferring studious leisure, I had chosen
A habitation in this peaceful Vale,
Sharp season followed of continual storm
In deepest winter; and, from week to week,
Pathway, and lane, and public road, were ..."></div>
</div>
</div>