A FOREST HYMN And of the triumphs of his ghastly foe Makes his own nourishment. For he came forth There have been holy men who hid themselves Deep in the woody wilderness, and gave 61 Their lives to thought and prayer, till they outlived The generation born with them, nor seemed Less aged than the hoary trees and rocks Around them; and there have been holy men Who deemed it were not well to pass life thus. The passions, at Thy plainer footsteps shrink The swift dark whirlwind that uproots the woods 5 10 15 20 25 10 15 Of the mad unchained elements to teach RALPH WALDO EMERSON AMERICA, 1803-1882 Duty So nigh is grandeur to our dust, So near is God to man; When Duty whispers low, "Thou must," Concord Hymn By the rude bridge that arched the flood, The foe long since in silence slept; Alike the conqueror silent sleeps; And Time the ruined bridge has swept Down the dark stream which seaward creeps. EACH AND ALL On this green bank, by this soft stream, Spirit, that made those heroes dare To die, and leave their children free, 63 5 Each and All Little thinks, in the field, yon red-cloaked clown The heifer that lows in the upland farm, Stops his horse, and lists with delight, 10 15 Whilst his files sweep round yon Alpine height; Thy life to thy neighbor's creed has lent. Nothing is fair or good alone. I thought the sparrow's note from heaven, He sings the song, but it pleases not now; The delicate shells lay on the shore; With the sun and the sand and the wild uproar. The lover watched his graceful maid, Like the bird from the woodlands to the cage; 20 The gay enchantment was undone A gentle wife, but fairy none. Then I said, "I covet truth; Beauty is unripe childhood's cheat; I leave it behind with the games of youth." 25 As I spoke, beneath my feet THE ARSENAL AT SPRINGFIELD The ground-pine curled its pretty wreath, I inhaled the violet's breath; 65 Around me stood the oaks and firs; Pine cones and acorns lay on the ground; 5 Over me soared the eternal sky, 10 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW The Arsenal at Springfield This is the arsenal. From floor to ceiling, Ah! what a sound will rise - how wild and dreary Will mingle with their awful symphonies! 15 |