#Activities #AmericanWriters #ArtsAndSciences #LandscapesAnd#Pastorals #Nature #SocialCommentaries #TravelsAndJourneys & Country Life Philo#Aphorism Town sophy,
SHINES the last age, the next w… To—day slinks poorly off unmarked… Future or Past no richer secret f… O friendless Present! than thy bo…
Thanks to the morning light, Thanks to the seething sea, To the uplands of New Hampshire, To the green—haired forest free; Thanks to each man of courage,
LONG I followed happy guides, I could never reach their sides; Their step is forth, and, ere the… Breaks up their leaguer, and away. Keen my sense, my heart was young,
The water understands Civilization well; It wets my foot, but prettily, It chills my life, but wittily, It is not disconcerted,
I hung my verses in the wind, Time and tide their faults may fin… All were winnowed through and thro… Five lines lasted sound and true; Five were smelted in a pot
The mountain and the squirrel Had a quarrel; And the former called the latter “… Bun replied, “You are doubtless very big;
Good—bye, proud world! I’m going… Thou art not my friend, and I’m n… Long through thy weary crowds I r… A river—ark on the ocean brine, Long I’ve been tossed like the dr…
Man was made of social earth, Child and brother from his birth; Tethered by a liquid cord Of blood through veins of kindred… Next his heart the fireside band
Venus, when her son was lost, Cried him up and down the coast, In hamlets, palaces, and parks, And told the truant by his marks, Golden curls, and quiver, and bow;…
When I was born, From all the seas of strength Fat… Saying, This be thy portion, chil… Less than a lily’s, thou shalt dai… From my great arteries; nor less,…
I like the church; I like a cowl; I love a prophet of the soul; And on my heart monastic aisles Fall like sweet strains, or pensiv… Yet not for all his faith can see
Who knows this or that? Hark in the wall to the rat: Since the world was, he has gnawed… Of his wisdom, of his fraud What dost thou know?
Of Paradise, O hermit wise, Let us renounce the thought. Of old therein our names of sin Allah recorded not. Who dear to God on earthly sod
Thousand minstrels woke within me, “Our music’s in the hills; ”— Gayest pictures rose to win me, Leopard—colored rills. Up!—If thou knew’st who calls
Thee, dear friend, a brother sooth… Not with flatteries, but truths, Which tarnish not, but purify To light which dims the morning’s… I have come from the spring—woods,