- Little thinks, in the field, yon red-cloaked
clown,
- Of thee from the hill-top looking down;
- The heifer that lows in the upland farm,
- Far-heard, lows not thine ear to charm;
- The sexton, tolling his bell at noon,
- Deems not that great Napoleon
- Stops his horse, and lists with delight,
- Whilst his files sweep round yon Alpine height;
- Nor knowest thou what argument
- Thy life to thy neighbor’s creed has lent.
- All are needed by each one;
- Nothing is fair or good alone.
- I thought the sparrow’s note from heaven,
- Singing at dawn on the alder bough;
- I brought him home, in his nest, at even;
- He sings the song, but it pleases not now,
- For I did not bring home the river and sky;—
- He sang to my ear,—they sang to my eye.
- The delicate shells lay on the shore;
- The bubbles of the latest wave
- Fresh pearls to their enamel gave;
- And the bellowing of the savage sea
- Greeted their safe escape to me.
- I wiped away the weeds and foam,
- I fetched my sea-born treasures home;
- But the poor, unsightly, noisome things
- Had left their beauty on the shore,
- With the sun, and the sand, and the wild uproar.
- The lover watched his graceful maid,
- As ’mid the virgin train she stayed,
- Nor knew her beauty’s best attire
- Was woven still by the snow-white choir.
- At last she came to his hermitage,
- Like the bird from the woodlands to the cage;—
- 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:”—
- As I spoke, beneath my feet
- The ground-pine curled its pretty wreath,
- Running over the club-moss burrs;
- I inhaled the violet’s breath;
- Around me stood the oaks and firs;
- Pine-cones and acorns lay on the ground;
- Over me soared the eternal sky,
- Full of light and of deity;
- Again I saw, again I heard,
- The rolling river, the morning bird;—
- Beauty through my senses stole;
- I yielded myself to the perfect whole.
