EMERSON.
Bard of the soaring soul,Of thought sublime, serene,—Lord of the PleiadesAnd all the stars between!And further still thy sway:—Thy realm, that vaster deepWhere galaxies unseenTheir radiant courses keep.With measure masterfulThou raisest our desire,Till to thy boldest flightOur eager souls aspire.But not alone thy thoughtIn star-sprent spaces strown;Thy largess manifoldHath nearer harvests sown.Ah! yes;—a richer cropWe gather, in thy song,Than ever homeward broughtThe Wain with “oxen strong.”TheSnow Storm, andWood Notes,Forerunners, andMay-Days,To the dear earth belong,And grace our lowliest ways.Concord, andBoston“Hymn,”—They stir our pulses still,And hold, for Freedom’s need,The patriot heart and will.The Problem,—EachandAll,Thy kind theology!And like the Lord Christ’s heart,Thy sweetApology.The Dirge,—theThrenody,Our tenderest tears unseal;—We know their loneliness,And all their sorrow feel.To Virtue’s holiest heightsLeads, still, thy dauntless strain,And on our follies falls“Its beautiful disdain.”BetweenRhodora’sbloomAndMerlin’smighty rhyme,Our largest thoughts find room,OWorld-Soulseer sublime!But little need hast thouOf tribute we may bring;—Thy fame hath EastertideWith each returning Spring.The centuries shall guardThe glory of thy verse,And worthier song than oursIts golden notes rehearse.Thou buildest thy renownWith ageless masonry:—Monadnock’sgranite wallsThy monument shall be!
Bard of the soaring soul,Of thought sublime, serene,—Lord of the PleiadesAnd all the stars between!And further still thy sway:—Thy realm, that vaster deepWhere galaxies unseenTheir radiant courses keep.With measure masterfulThou raisest our desire,Till to thy boldest flightOur eager souls aspire.But not alone thy thoughtIn star-sprent spaces strown;Thy largess manifoldHath nearer harvests sown.Ah! yes;—a richer cropWe gather, in thy song,Than ever homeward broughtThe Wain with “oxen strong.”TheSnow Storm, andWood Notes,Forerunners, andMay-Days,To the dear earth belong,And grace our lowliest ways.Concord, andBoston“Hymn,”—They stir our pulses still,And hold, for Freedom’s need,The patriot heart and will.The Problem,—EachandAll,Thy kind theology!And like the Lord Christ’s heart,Thy sweetApology.The Dirge,—theThrenody,Our tenderest tears unseal;—We know their loneliness,And all their sorrow feel.To Virtue’s holiest heightsLeads, still, thy dauntless strain,And on our follies falls“Its beautiful disdain.”BetweenRhodora’sbloomAndMerlin’smighty rhyme,Our largest thoughts find room,OWorld-Soulseer sublime!But little need hast thouOf tribute we may bring;—Thy fame hath EastertideWith each returning Spring.The centuries shall guardThe glory of thy verse,And worthier song than oursIts golden notes rehearse.Thou buildest thy renownWith ageless masonry:—Monadnock’sgranite wallsThy monument shall be!
Bard of the soaring soul,Of thought sublime, serene,—Lord of the PleiadesAnd all the stars between!
Bard of the soaring soul,
Of thought sublime, serene,—
Lord of the Pleiades
And all the stars between!
And further still thy sway:—Thy realm, that vaster deepWhere galaxies unseenTheir radiant courses keep.
And further still thy sway:—
Thy realm, that vaster deep
Where galaxies unseen
Their radiant courses keep.
With measure masterfulThou raisest our desire,Till to thy boldest flightOur eager souls aspire.
With measure masterful
Thou raisest our desire,
Till to thy boldest flight
Our eager souls aspire.
But not alone thy thoughtIn star-sprent spaces strown;Thy largess manifoldHath nearer harvests sown.
But not alone thy thought
In star-sprent spaces strown;
Thy largess manifold
Hath nearer harvests sown.
Ah! yes;—a richer cropWe gather, in thy song,Than ever homeward broughtThe Wain with “oxen strong.”
Ah! yes;—a richer crop
We gather, in thy song,
Than ever homeward brought
The Wain with “oxen strong.”
TheSnow Storm, andWood Notes,Forerunners, andMay-Days,To the dear earth belong,And grace our lowliest ways.
TheSnow Storm, andWood Notes,
Forerunners, andMay-Days,
To the dear earth belong,
And grace our lowliest ways.
Concord, andBoston“Hymn,”—They stir our pulses still,And hold, for Freedom’s need,The patriot heart and will.
Concord, andBoston“Hymn,”—
They stir our pulses still,
And hold, for Freedom’s need,
The patriot heart and will.
The Problem,—EachandAll,Thy kind theology!And like the Lord Christ’s heart,Thy sweetApology.
The Problem,—EachandAll,
Thy kind theology!
And like the Lord Christ’s heart,
Thy sweetApology.
The Dirge,—theThrenody,Our tenderest tears unseal;—We know their loneliness,And all their sorrow feel.
The Dirge,—theThrenody,
Our tenderest tears unseal;—
We know their loneliness,
And all their sorrow feel.
To Virtue’s holiest heightsLeads, still, thy dauntless strain,And on our follies falls“Its beautiful disdain.”
To Virtue’s holiest heights
Leads, still, thy dauntless strain,
And on our follies falls
“Its beautiful disdain.”
BetweenRhodora’sbloomAndMerlin’smighty rhyme,Our largest thoughts find room,OWorld-Soulseer sublime!
BetweenRhodora’sbloom
AndMerlin’smighty rhyme,
Our largest thoughts find room,
OWorld-Soulseer sublime!
But little need hast thouOf tribute we may bring;—Thy fame hath EastertideWith each returning Spring.
But little need hast thou
Of tribute we may bring;—
Thy fame hath Eastertide
With each returning Spring.
The centuries shall guardThe glory of thy verse,And worthier song than oursIts golden notes rehearse.
The centuries shall guard
The glory of thy verse,
And worthier song than ours
Its golden notes rehearse.
Thou buildest thy renownWith ageless masonry:—Monadnock’sgranite wallsThy monument shall be!
Thou buildest thy renown
With ageless masonry:—
Monadnock’sgranite walls
Thy monument shall be!