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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=415751" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Turn of the Road</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=415751" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I was playing with my hoop along the road <br>Just where the bushes are, when, suddenly, <br>There came a shout, -- I ran away and stowed <br>Myself beneath a bush, and watched to see <br>What made the noise, and then, around the bend, <br>I saw a woman running. She was old <br>And wrinkle-faced, and had big teeth. -- The end <br>Of her red shawl caught on a bush and rolled <br>Right off her, and her hair fell down. Her face <br>Was awful white, and both her eyes looked sick, <br>And she was talking queer. 'O God of Grace!' <br>Said she, 'where is the child?' and flew back quick <br>The way she came, and screamed, and shook her hands; <br>. . . Maybe she was a witch from foreign lands.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=James+Brunton+Stephens">James Brunton Stephens</a></strong></div>

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