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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519167" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Clearing</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519167" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Stumps, and harsh rocks, and prostrate trunks all charred,<br> And gnarled roots naked to the sun and rain,--<br> They seem in their grim stillness to complain,<br>And be their paint the evening peace is jarred.<br>These ragged acres fire and the axe have scarred,<br> And many summers not assuaged their pain.<br> In vain the pink and saffron light, in vain<br>The pale dew on the hillocks stripped and marred!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519167" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But here and there the waste is touched with cheer<br> Where spreads the fire-weed like a crimson flood<br>And venturous plumes of golden-rod appear;<br> And round the blackened fence the great boughs lean <br>With comfort; and across the solitude<br> The hermit's holy transport peals serene.</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=Sir+Charles+George+Douglas+Roberts">Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts</a></strong></div>