Poems by Ralph Waldo Emerson Part 36

Tell men what they knew before; Paint the prospect from their door.

Him strong Genius urged to roam, Stronger Custom brought him home.

That each should in his house abide.

Therefore was the world so wide.

Thou shalt make thy house The temple of a nation's vows.

Spirits of a higher strain Who sought thee once shall seek again.

I detected many a G.o.d Forth already on the road, Ancestors of beauty come In thy breast to make a home.

The archangel Hope Looks to the azure cope, Waits through dark ages for the morn, Defeated day by day, but unto victory born.

As the drop feeds its fated flower, As finds its Alp the snowy shower, Child of the omnific Need, Hurled into life to do a deed, Man drinks the water, drinks the light.

Ever the Rock of Ages melts Into the mineral air, To be the quarry whence to build Thought and its mansions fair.

Go if thou wilt, ambrosial flower, Go match thee with thy seeming peers; I will wait Heaven's perfect hour Through the innumerable years.

Yes, sometimes to the sorrow-stricken Shall his own sorrow seem impertinent, A thing that takes no more root in the world Than doth the traveller's shadow on the rock.

But if thou do thy best, Without remission, without rest, And invite the sunbeam, And abhor to feign or seem Even to those who thee should love And thy behavior approve; If thou go in thine own likeness, Be it health, or be it sickness; If thou go as thy father's son, If thou wear no mask or lie, Dealing purely and nakedly,--

Ascending thorough just degrees To a consummate holiness, As angel blind to trespa.s.s done, And bleaching all souls like the sun.

From the stores of eldest matter, The deep-eyed flame, obedient water, Transparent air, all-feeding earth, He took the flower of all their worth, And, best with best in sweet consent, Combined a new temperament.

REX

The bard and mystic held me for their own, I filled the dream of sad, poetic maids, I took the friendly n.o.ble by the hand, I was the trustee of the hand-cart man, The brother of the fisher, porter, swain, And these from the crowd's edge well pleased beheld The service done to me as done to them.

With the key of the secret he marches faster, From strength to strength, and for night brings day; While cla.s.ses or tribes, too weak to master The flowing conditions of life, give way.

SUUM CUIQUE

Wilt thou seal up the avenues of ill?

Pay every debt as if G.o.d wrote the bill.

If curses be the wage of love, Hide in thy skies, thou fruitless Jove, Not to be named: It is clear Why the G.o.ds will not appear; They are ashamed.

When wrath and terror changed Jove's regal port, And the rash-leaping thunderbolt fell short.

Shun pa.s.sion, fold the hands of thrift, Sit still and Truth is near: Suddenly it will uplift Your eyelids to the sphere: Wait a little, you shall see The portraiture of things to be.

The rules to men made evident By Him who built the day, The columns of the firmament Not firmer based than they.

On bravely through the suns.h.i.+ne and the showers!

Time hath his work to do and we have ours.

THE BOHEMIAN HYMN

In many forms we try To utter G.o.d's infinity, But the boundless hath no form, And the Universal Friend Doth as far transcend An angel as a worm.

The great Idea baffles wit, Language falters under it, It leaves the learned in the lurch; Nor art, nor power, nor toil can find The measure of the eternal Mind, Nor hymn, nor prayer, nor church.

GRACE