Quit thy friends as the dead in doom,
And build to them a final tomb;
Let the starred shade that nightly falls
Still celebrate their funerals,

And the bell of beetle and of bee
Knell their melodious memory.
Behind thee leave thy merchandise,

Thy churches and thy charities;
And leave thy peacock wit behind;
Enough for thee the primal mind

That flows in streams, that breathes in wind;
Leave all thy pedant lore apart;

God hid the whole world in thy heart.
Love shuns the sage, the child it crowns,
Gives all to them who all renounce.
The rain comes when the wind calls;
The river knows the way to the sea;
Without a pilot it runs and falls,
Blessing all lands with its charity;
The sea tosses and foams to find
Its way up to the cloud and wind;
The shadow sits close to the flying ball ;
The date fails not on the palm-tree tall;
And thou, go burn thy wormy pages,
Shalt outsee seers, and outwit sages.

Oft didst thou thread the woods in vain
To find what bird had piped the strain;
Seek not, and the little eremite
Flies gayly forth and sings in sight.

'Hearken once more!

I will tell thee the mundane lore.
Older am I than thy numbers wot,
Change I may, but I pass not.

Hitherto all things fast abide,
And anchored in the tempest ride.
Trenchant time behoves to hurry
All to yean and all to bury:
All the forms are fugitive,
But the substances survive.
Ever fresh the broad creation,
A divine improvisation,

From the heart of God proceeds,
A single will, a million deeds.

Once slept the world an egg of stone,

And pulse, and sound, and light was none;
And God said, "Throb!" and there was motion
And the vast mass became vast ocean.

Onward and on, the eternal Pan,

Who layeth the world's incessant plan,
Halteth never in one shape,

But forever doth escape,

Like wave or flame, into new forms
Of gem, and air, of plants, and worms.
I, that to-day am a pine,

Yesterday was a bundle of grass.

He is free and libertine,

Pouring of his power the wine
To every age, to every race;
Unto every race and age
He emptieth the beverage;
Unto each, and unto all,
Maker and original.

The world is the ring of his spells,

And the play of his miracles.

As he giveth to all to drink,

Thus or thus they are and think.

With one drop sheds form and feature;
With the next a special nature;

The third adds heat's indulgent spark;

The fourth gives light which eats the dark;
Into the fifth himself he flings,

And conscious Law is King of kings.
As the bee through the garden ranges,
From world to world the godhead changes;
As the sheep go feeding in the waste,
From form to form He maketh haste;
This vault which glows immense with light
Is the inn where he lodges for a night.
What recks such Traveller if the bowers
Which bloom and fade like meadow flowers
A bunch of fragrant lilies be,

Or the stars of eternity?

Alike to him the better, the worse,

The glowing angel, the outcast corse.
Thou metest him by centuries,
And lo he passes like the breeze;
Thou seek'st in globe and galaxy,
He hides in pure transparency;
Thou askest in fountains and in fires,
He is the essence that inquires.
He is the axis of the star;
He is the sparkle of the spar;

He is the heart of every creature;

He is the meaning of each feature;
And his mind is the sky.

Than all it holds more deep, more high.'

MONADNOC.

THOUSAND minstrels woke within me,
'Our music's in the hills;'.
Gayest pictures rose to win me,
Leopard-colored rills.

'Up! If thou knew'st who calls

To twilight parks of beech and pine,
High over the river intervals,
Above the ploughman's highest line,
Over the owner's farthest walls!
Up! where the airy citadel

O'erlooks the surging landscape's swell!

Let not unto the stones the Day

Her lily and rose, her sea and land display.

Read the celestial sign!

Lo! the south answers to the north;

Bookworm, break this sloth urbane;

A greater spirit bids thee forth

Than the gray dreams which thee detain.
Mark how the climbing Oreads

Beckon thee to their arcades;

Youth, for a moment free as they,
Teach thy feet to feel the ground,
Ere yet arrives the wintry day
When Time thy feet has bound.
Take the bounty of thy birth,
Taste the lordship of the earth.'

I heard, and I obeyed,

Assured that he who made the claim,
Well known, but loving not a name,

Was not to be gainsaid.

Ere yet the summoning voice was still,
I turned to Cheshire's haughty hill.

From the fixed cone the cloud-rack flowed
Like ample banner flung abroad

To all the dwellers in the plains

Round about, a hundred miles,

With salutation to the sea and to the border

ing isles.

In his own loom's garment dressed,

By his proper bounty blessed,

Fast abides this constant giver,
Pouring many a cheerful river;
To far eyes, an aerial isle
Unploughed, which finer spirits pile,
Which morn and crimson evening paint
For bard, for lover and for saint;
An eyemark and the country's core,
Inspirer, prophet evermore;
Pillar which God aloft had set
So that men might it not forget;
It should be their life's ornament,
And mix itself with each event;
Gauge and calendar and dial,
Weatherglass and chemic phial,
Garden of berries, perch of birds,
Pasture of pool-haunting herds,
Graced by each change of sum untold,
Earth-baking heat, stone-cleaving cold.

The Titan heeds his sky-affairs,
Rich rents and wide alliance shares;
Mysteries of color daily laid

By morn and eve in light and shade;