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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=428532" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>In August</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=428532" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">BESIDE the country road with truant grace<br>Wild carrot lifts its circles of white lace.<br>From vines whose interwoven branches drape<br>The old stone walls, come pungent scents of grape.<br>The sumach torches burn; the hardhack glows;<br>From off the pines a healing fragrance blows;<br>The pallid Indian pipe of ghostly kin<br>Listens in vain for stealthy moccasin.<br>In pensive mood a faded robin sings;<br>A butterfly with dusky, gold-flecked wings<br>Holds court for plumy dandelion seed<br>And thistledown, on throne of fireweed.<br>The road goes loitering on, till it hath missed<br>Its way in goldenrod, to keep a tryst,<br>Beyond the mosses and the ferns that veil<br>The last faint lines of its forgotten trail,<br>With Lonely Lake, so crystal clear that one<br>May see its bottom sparkling in the sun<br>With many-colored stones. The only stir<br>On its green banks is of the kingfisher<br>Dipping for prey, but oft, these haunted nights,<br>That mirror shivers into dazzling lights,<br>Cleft by a falling star, a messenger<br>From some bright battle lost, Excalibur.</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=Katharine+Lee+Bates">Katharine Lee Bates</a></strong></div>