 | The collected poems of William Ellery Channing the younger, 1817-1901 |  |
1010
THE SAGE
(EMERSON)
(1897)
When I was young I knew a sage—
A man he was of middle age;
Clear was his mind as forest brooks,
And reams of wisdom in his looks.
A man he was of middle age;
Clear was his mind as forest brooks,
And reams of wisdom in his looks.
But if I asked this sage-like man
Questions of wisdom in my plan,
Faintly the smile shed o'er his face,
A beam of joy, a smile of grace.
Questions of wisdom in my plan,
Faintly the smile shed o'er his face,
A beam of joy, a smile of grace.
The answer that I needed bad
Ne'er reached my ear, nor gay nor sad;
“That might be so,” the sage would say,
Exactly flat as mere “Good day.”
Ne'er reached my ear, nor gay nor sad;
“That might be so,” the sage would say,
Exactly flat as mere “Good day.”
Within his mind there seemed to be
A fixed reserve, a pleasant lea:
“Not I—I cannot mend your state,”
To Yes, to No, inveterate.
A fixed reserve, a pleasant lea:
“Not I—I cannot mend your state,”
To Yes, to No, inveterate.
1011
To all alike he charming was;
His words were wise in Virtue's cause;
Distinct, clear-minded—old and young
Upon his words in rapture hung.
His words were wise in Virtue's cause;
Distinct, clear-minded—old and young
Upon his words in rapture hung.
“Come to my woods, come to my fields!
There Nature her revision yields;
These things were made to be enjoyed—
Great is the pleasure, great the reward.
There Nature her revision yields;
These things were made to be enjoyed—
Great is the pleasure, great the reward.
“Unnumbered shine the nightly flowers,
To man the wonder of his hours;
The heavens themselves invite his gaze,
Those actors in their native plays.”
To man the wonder of his hours;
The heavens themselves invite his gaze,
Those actors in their native plays.”
Forth went he, armed, to see the world;
Love was his weapon—joy it hurled;
Yet ne'er a word he spoke of them—
Silent, yet shining like a gem.
Love was his weapon—joy it hurled;
Yet ne'er a word he spoke of them—
Silent, yet shining like a gem.
| The collected poems of William Ellery Channing the younger, 1817-1901 | |