 | The collected poems of William Ellery Channing the younger, 1817-1901 |  |
998
EMERSON
(1857)
Here sometimes gliding in his peaceful skiff
Climéné sails, heir of the world, and notes
In his perception, that no thing escapes,
Each varying pulse along Life's arteries—
Both what she half resolves and half effects,
As well as her whole purpose. To his eye
The silent stars of many a midnight heaven
Have beamed tokens of love, types of the Soul,
And lifted him to more primeval natures.
In those far-moving barks on heaven's sea
Radiates of force he saw; and while he moved
From man, on the eternal billow, still his heart
Beat with some natural fondness for his race.
Climéné sails, heir of the world, and notes
In his perception, that no thing escapes,
Each varying pulse along Life's arteries—
Both what she half resolves and half effects,
As well as her whole purpose. To his eye
The silent stars of many a midnight heaven
Have beamed tokens of love, types of the Soul,
And lifted him to more primeval natures.
In those far-moving barks on heaven's sea
Radiates of force he saw; and while he moved
From man, on the eternal billow, still his heart
Beat with some natural fondness for his race.
In other lands they might have worshipped him;
Nations had stood and blocked their chariot wheels
At his approach—towns stooped beneath his foot!
But here, in our vast wilderness, he walks
Alone—if't is to be alone when stars
And breath of summer mountain airs and morn
And the wild music of the untempered sea
Consort with human genius.
Oh, couldst not thou revere, bold stranger (prone
Inly to smile and chide at human power),
Our humble fields and lowly stooping hills,
When thou shalt learn that here Climéné trod?
Nations had stood and blocked their chariot wheels
At his approach—towns stooped beneath his foot!
But here, in our vast wilderness, he walks
Alone—if't is to be alone when stars
And breath of summer mountain airs and morn
And the wild music of the untempered sea
Consort with human genius.
999
Inly to smile and chide at human power),
Our humble fields and lowly stooping hills,
When thou shalt learn that here Climéné trod?
| The collected poems of William Ellery Channing the younger, 1817-1901 | |