Alone in Rome. Why, Rome is lonely too;—Besides, you need not be alone; the soulShall have society of its own rank.Be great, be true, and all the Scipios,The Catos, the wise patriots of Rome,Shall flock to you and tarry by your side,And comfort you with their high company.Virtue alone is sweet society,It keeps the key to all heroic hearts,And opens you a welcome in them all.You must be like them if you desire them,Scorn trifles and embrace a better aimThan wine or sleep or praise;Hunt knowledge as the lover wooes a maid,And ever in the strife of your own thoughtsObey the nobler impulse; that is Rome:That shall command a senate to your side;For there is no might in the universeThat can contend with love. It reigns forever.Wait then, sad friend, wait in majestic peaceThe hour of heaven. Generously trustThy fortune's web to the beneficent handThat until now has put his world in feeTo thee. He watches for thee still. His loveBroods over thee, and as God lives in heaven,However long thou walkest solitary,The hour of heaven shall come, the man appear.1833.
1831Let Webster's lofty faceEver on thousands shine,A beacon set that Freedom's raceMight gather omens from that radiant sign.
1834Ill fits the abstemious Muse a crown to weaveFor living brows; ill fits them to receive:And yet, if virtue abrogate the law,One portrait—fact or fancy—we may draw;A form which Nature cast in the heroic mouldOf them who rescued liberty of old;He, when the rising storm of party roared,Brought his great forehead to the council board,There, while hot heads perplexed with fears the state,Calm as the morn the manly patriot sate;Seemed, when at last his clarion accents broke,As if the conscience of the country spoke.Not on its base Monadnoc surer stood,Than he to common sense and common good:No mimic; from his breast his counsel drew,Believed the eloquent was aye the true;He bridged the gulf from th' alway good and wiseTo that within the vision of small eyes.Self-centred; when he launched the genuine wordIt shook or captivated all who heard,Ran from his mouth to mountains and the sea,And burned in noble hearts proverb and prophecy.
1854Why did all manly gifts in Webster fail?He wrote on Nature's grandest brow,For Sale.
A dull uncertain brain"A new commandment," said the smiling MuseA patch of meadow uplandA queen rejoices in her peersA ruddy drop of manly bloodA score of airy miles will smoothA sterner errand to the silken troopA subtle chain of countless ringsA train of gay and clouded daysAh Fate, cannot a manAh, not to me those dreams belong!All day the waves assailed the rockAlone in Rome. Why, Rome is lonely tooAlready blushes on thy cheekAnd as the light divides the darkAnd Ellen, when the graybeard yearsAnd I behold once moreAnd when I am entombed in my placeAnnounced by all the trumpets of the skyAround the man who seeks a noble endAscending thorough just degreesAskest, 'How long thou shalt stay?'As sings the pine-tree in the windAs sunbeams stream through liberal spaceAs the drop feeds its fated flowerAtom from atom yawns as farBe of good cheer, brave spirit; steadfastlyBecause I was content with these poor fieldsBethink, poor heart, what bitter kind of jestBlooms the laurel which belongsBoon Nature yields each day a brag which we now first beholdBring me wine, but wine which never grewBulkeley, Hunt, Willard, Hosmer, Meriam, FlintBurly, dozing humble-beeBut God saidBut if thou do thy bestBut Nature whistled with all her windsBut never yet the man was foundBut over all his crowning graceBy fate, not option, frugal Nature gaveBy the rude bridge that arched the floodBy thoughts I leadCan rules or tutors educateCast the bantling on the rocksCoin the day dawn into linesDark flower of Cheshire gardenDarlings of children and of bardDaughter of Heaven and Earth, coy SpringDaughters of Time, the hypocritic DaysDay by day for her darlings to her much she added moreDay by day returnsDay! hast thou two facesDear brother, would you know the lifeDearest, where thy shadow fallsDeep in the man sits fast his fateEach spot where tulips prank their stateEach the herald is who wroteEasy to match what others doEre he was born, the stars of fateEver the Poetfromthe landEver the Rock of Ages meltsEvery day brings a shipEvery thought is publicFall, stream, from Heaven to bless; return as wellFarewell, ye lofty spiresFlow, flow the waves hatedFor art, for music over-thrilledFor every GodFor Fancy's giftFor Genius made his cabin wideFor joy and beauty planted itFor Nature, true and like in every placeFor thought, and not praiseFor what need I of book or priestForbore the ant-hill, shunned to treadFreedom all winged expandsFriends to me are frozen wineFrom fall to spring, the russet acornFrom high to higher forcesFrom the stores of eldest matterFrom thy worth and weight the stars gravitateGifts of one who loved meGive all to loveGive me truthsGive to barrows, trays and pansGo if thou wilt, ambrosial flowerGo speed the stars of ThoughtGo thou to thy learned taskGold and iron are goodGood-bye, proud world! I'm going homeGrace, Beauty and CapriceGravely it broods apart on joyHark what, now loud, now low, the pining flute complainsHast thou named all the birds without a gun?Have ye seen the caterpillarHe could condense cerulean etherHe lives not who can refuse meHe planted where the deluge ploughedHe took the color of his vestHe who has a thousand friends has not a friend to spareHe who has no handsHear what British Merlin sungHenceforth, please God, forever I foregoHer passions the shy violetHer planted eye to-day controlsHigh was her heart, and yet was well inclinedHim strong Genius urged to roamHis instant thought a poet spokeHis tongue was framed to musicHold of the Maker, not the MadeHow much, preventing God, how much I oweI, Alphonso, live and learnI am not poor but I am proudI am not wiser for my ageI am the Muse who sung alwayI bear in youth and sad infirmitiesI cannot spare water or wineI do not count the hours I spendI framed his tongue to musicI grieve that better souls than mineI have an arrow that will find its markI have no brothers and no peersI have trod this path a hundred timesI heard or seemed to hear the chiding SeaI hung my verses in the windI left my dreary page and sallied forthI like a church; I like a cowlI love thy music, mellow bellI mourn upon this battle-fieldI rake no coffined clay, nor publish wideI reached the middle of the mountI said to heaven that glowed aboveI see all human witsI serve you not, if you I followIf bright the sun, he tarriesIf curses be the wage of loveIf I could put my woods in songIf my darling should departIf the red slayer think he slaysIll fits the abstemious Muse a crown to weaveIllusions like the tints of pearlIllusion works impenetrableIn an age of fops and toysIn countless upward-striving wavesIn Farsistan the violet spreadsIn many forms we tryIn May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudesIn my garden three ways meetIn the chamber, on the stairsIn the deep heart of man a poet dwellsIn the suburb, in the townIn the turbulent beautyIn Walden wood the chickadeeIt fell in the ancient periodsIt is time to be oldKnows he who tills this lonely fieldLet me go where'er I willLet Webster's lofty faceLike vaulters in a circus roundLittle thinks, in the field, yon red-cloaked clownLong I followed happy guidesLove asks nought his brother cannot giveLove on his errand bound to goLove scatters oilLow and mournful be the strainMan was made of social earthMany things the garden showsMay be true what I had heardMine and yoursMine are the night and morningMortal mixed of middle clayNature centres into ballsNever did sculptor's dream unfoldNight-dreams trace on Memory's wallNo fate, save by the victim's fault, is lowNot in their houses stand the starsOctober woods whereinO fair and stately maid, whose eyesO pity that I pause!O tenderly the haughty dayO well for the fortunate soulO what are heroes, prophets, menOf all wit's uses the main oneOf Merlin wise I learned a songOh what is Heaven but the fellowshipOn a mound an Arab layOn bravely through the sunshine and the showersOn prince or bride no diamond stoneOn two days it steads not to run from thy graveOnce I wished I might rehearseOne musician is sureOur eyeless bark sails freeOver his head were the maple budsPale genius roves aloneParks and ponds are good by dayPhilosophers are lined with eyes withinPower that by obedience growsPut in, drive home the sightless wedgesQuit the hut, frequent the palaceRight upward on the road of fameRoomy EternityRoving, roving, as it seemsRuby wine is drunk by knavesSamson stark at Dagon's kneeSee yonder leafless trees against the skySeek not the spirit, if it hideSeems, though the soft sheen all enchantsSet not thy foot on gravesShe is gamesome and goodShe paints with white and red the moorsShe walked in flowers around my fieldShines the last age, the next with hope is seenShun passion, fold the hands of thriftSix thankful weeks,—and let it beSlighted Minerva's learnèd tongueSoft and softlier hold me, friends!Solar insect on the wingSome of your hurts you have curedSpace is ample, east and westSpin the ball! I reel, I burnSuch another peerless queenSudden gusts came full of meaningTell me, maiden, dost thou useTell men what they knew beforeTest of the poet is knowledge of loveThanks to the morning lightThat book is goodThat each should in his house abideThat you are fair or wise is vainThe April winds are magicalThe archangel HopeThe Asmodean feat is mineThe atom displaces all atoms besideThe bard and mystic held me for their ownThe beggar begs by God's commandThe brave Empedocles, defying foolsThe brook sings on, but sings in vainThe cold gray down upon the quinces liethThe cup of life is not so shallowThe days pass over meThe debt is paidThe gale that wrecked you on the sandThe green grass is bowingThe heavy blue chainThe living Heaven thy prayers respectThe lords of life, the lords of lifeThe low December vault in June be lifted highTheme no poet gladly sungThe mountain and the squirrelThe Muse's hill by Fear is guardedThe patient PanThe prosperous and beautifulThe rhyme of the poetThe rocky nook with hilltops threeThe rules to men made evidentThe sea is the road of the boldThe sense of the world is shortThe solid, solid universeThe South-wind bringsThe Sphinx is drowsyThe sun athwart the cloud thought it no sinThe sun goes down, and with him takesThe sun set, but set not his hopeThe tongue is prone to lose the wayThe water understandsThe wings of Time are black and whiteThe word of the Lord by nightThe yesterday doth never smileThee, dear friend, a brother soothesThere are beggars in Iran and ArabyThere is in all the sons of menThere is no great and no smallThere is no architectThey brought me rubies from the mineThey put their finger on their lipsThey say, through patience, chalkThine eyes still shined for me, though farThink me not unkind and rudeThis is he, who, felled by foesThis shining moment is an edificeThou foolish Hafiz! Say, do churlsThou shalt make thy houseThough her eyes seek other formsThough loath to grieveThough love repine and reason chafeThousand minstrels woke within meThy foes to hunt, thy enviers to strike downThy summer voice, MusketaquitThy trivial harp will never pleaseTo and fro the Genius fliesTo clothe the fiery thoughtTo transmute crime to wisdom, so to stemTrees in grovesTrue Brahmin, in the morning meadows wetTry the might the Muse affordsTwo things thou shalt not long for, if thou love a mind sereneTwo well-assorted travellers useUnbar the door, since thou the Opener artVenus, when her son was lostWas never form and never faceWe are what we are made; each following dayWe crossed Champlain to Keeseville with our friendsWe love the venerable houseWell and wisely said the GreekWhat all the books of ages paint, I haveWhat care I, so they stand the sameWhat central flowing forces, sayWhen all their blooms the meadows flauntWhen I was bornWhen success exalts thy lotWhen the pine tosses its conesWhen wrath and terror changed Jove's regal portWho gave thee, O BeautyWho knows this or that? 375.Who saw the hid beginningsWho shall tell what did befallWhy did all manly gifts in Webster fail?Why fear to dieWhy lingerest thou, pale violet, to see the dying yearWhy should I keep holidayWilt thou seal up the avenues of ill?Winters knowWise and polite,—and if I drewWisp and meteor nightly fallingWith beams December planets dartWith the key of the secret he marches fasterWould you know what joy is hidYes, sometimes to the sorrow-strickenYou shall not be overboldYou shall not love me for what daily spendsYour picture smiles as first it smiled
[The titles in small capital letters are those of the principaldivisions of the work; those in lower case are of single poems, or thesubdivisions of long poems.]A.H.[Greek: Adakryn nemontai Aiona]Adirondacs, TheAlcuin, FromAli Ben Abu Taleb, FromAlphonso of CastileAmulet, TheApology, TheAprilArtArtistAstraeaBacchusBeautyBell, TheBerryingBirdsBlightBoéce, Étienne de laBohemian Hymn, TheBorrowingBostonBoston Hymn, read in Music Hall, January 1, 1863BotanistBrahmaCaritasCasellaCelestial Love, TheChanning, W.H., Ode inscribed toCharacterChartist's Complaint, TheCirclesClimactericCompensationConcord HymnConcord, Ode Sung in the Town Hall, July 4, 1857CosmosCultureCupidoDaemonic Love, TheDay's Ration, TheDaysDestinyDirgeEach and AllEarth, TheEarth-SongELEMENTS AND MOTTOESEllen, ToEllen, Lines toEnchanter, TheEpitaphErosEva, ToExcelsiorExile, TheExperienceFableFameFateFlute, TheForbearanceForerunnersForesterFragments on Nature and LifeFragments on the Poet and the Poetic GiftFreedomFriendshipGarden, TheGarden, MyGardenerGiftsGive all to LoveGood-byeGood HopeGraceGuyHafizHafiz, FromHamatreyaHarp, TheHeavens, TheHeri, Cras, HodieHermioneHeroismHolidaysHoroscopeHouse, TheHumble-Bee, TheHush!HymnHymn sung at the Second Church, Boston, at the Ordination ofRev. Chandler RobbinsIbn Jemin, FromIllusionsInforming Spirit, TheIn MemoriamInitial, Daemonic and Celestial LoveInitial Love, TheInscription for a Well in Memory of the Martyrs of the WarInsightIntellectJ.W., ToLast Farewell, TheLetter, ALettersLifeLimitsLines by Ellen Louise TuckerLines to EllenLoveLove and ThoughtMaiaMaiden Speech of the Aeolian HarpMannersMAY-DAY AND OTHER PIECESMay-DayMemoryMerlinMerlin's SongMeropsMiracle, TheMithridatesMonadnocMonadnoc from afarMountain Grave, AMusicMusketaquidMy GardenNahantNatureNature in LeastsNemesisNight in JuneNorthmanNun's Aspiration, TheOctoberOde, inscribed to W.H. ChanningOde, sung in the Town Hall, Concord, July 4, 1857Ode to BeautyOmar Khayyam, FromOratorPanPark, ThePast, ThePericlesPeter's FieldPhi Beta Kappa Poem, From thePhilosopherPOEMS OF YOUTH AND EARLY MANHOODPoetPoet, ThePoliticsPowerPrayerProblem, ThePromisePrudenceQUATRAINS AND TRANSLATIONSRexRhea, ToRhodora, TheRichesRiver, TheRomany Girl, TheRubiesS.H.SaadiSacrificeSeashoreSecuritySeptemberShah, To theShakspeareSnow-Storm, TheSolutionSong of NatureSong of Seyd Nimetollah of KuhistanSonnet of Michel Angelo BuonarottiSphinx, TheSpiritual LawsSummons, TheSunriseSursum Corda"Suum Cuique"TerminusTest, TheThine Eyes still ShinedThoughtThrenodyTitmouse, TheTo-DayTo Ellen at the SouthTo EllenTo EvaTo J.W.To RheaTo the ShahTransitionTranslationsTwo RiversUnaUnityUrielViolet, TheVisit, TheVoluntariesWaldeinsamkeitWaldenWalk, TheWaterWaterfall, TheWealthWebsterWoodnotesWorld-Soul, TheWorshipWritten at Rome, 1883Written in a Volume of GoetheWritten in Naples, March, 1883Xenophanes