R[alph] W[aldo] Emerson
2Song of Nature (Continued)I travail in pain for him,My creatures travail and wait,His couriers come by squadrons,He comes not to the gate.Twice I have moulded an image,And thrice outstretched my hand,Made one of day and one of night,And one of the salt sea sand.One in a Judean manger,And one by Avon stream,One over against the mouths of Nile,And one in the Academe.I moulded kings and saviors,And bards o'er kings to rule;--But fell the starry influence short,The cup was never full.Yet whirl the glowing wheels once more,And mix the bowl again,Seethe, Fate! the ancient Elements,Heat, cold, wet, dry, and peace and pain.Let war and trade and creeds and song Blend, ripen race on race,The sunburnt world a man shall breed Of all the zones, and countless days.No ray is dimmed, no atom worn,My oldest force is good as new,And the fresh rose on yonder thorn,Gives back the bending heavens in dew.R. W. Emerson
1872 Feb 5
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