Ralph Waldo Emerson (राल्फ वाल्डो इमर्सन)

From the earth-poles to the Line,All between that works or grows.

Every thing is kin of mine,Give me agates for my meat.

Give me cantharids to eat,From air and ocean bring me foods.

From all zones and altitudes,From all natures, sharp and slimy.

Salt and basalt, wild and tame,Tree, and lichen, ape, sea-lion.

Bird and reptile be my game,Ivy for my fillet band.

Blinding dogwood in my hand,Hemlock for my sherbet cull me.

And the prussic juice to lull me,Swing me in the upas boughs.

Vampire-fanned, when I carouse,Too long shut in strait and few.

Thinly dieted on dew,I will use the world, and sift it.

To a thousand humors shift it,As you spin a cherry.

O doleful ghosts, and goblins merry,O all you virtues, methods, mights.

Means, appliances, delights,Reputed wrongs, and braggart rights.

Smug routine, and things allowed,Minorities, things under cloud!.

Hither! take me, use me, fill me,Vein and artery, though ye kill me.

God! I will not be an owl,But sun me in the Capitol.

Virtue runs before the muse,And defies her skill.

She is rapt, and doth refuse,To wait a painter's will.

Star-adoring, occupied,Virtue cannot bend her.

Just to please a poet's pride,To parade her splendor.

The bard must be with good intent,No more his, but hers.

Throw away his pen and paint,Kneel with worshippers.

Then, perchance, a sunny ray,From the heaven of fire.

His lost tools may over-pay,And better his desire.

Who gave thee, O Beauty!,The keys of this breast.

Too credulous lover,Of blest and unblest?.

Say when in lapsed ages,Thee knew I of old.

Or what was the service,For which I was sold?.

When first my eyes saw thee,I found me thy thrall.

By magical drawings,Sweet tyrant of all!.

I drank at thy fountain,False waters of thirst.

Thou intimate stranger,Thou latest and first!.

Thy dangerous glances,Make women of men.

New-born we are melting,Into nature again.

Lavish, lavish promiser,Nigh persuading gods to err.

Guest of million painted forms,Which in turn thy glory warms.

The frailest leaf, the mossy bark,The acorn's cup, the raindrop's arc.

The swinging spider's silver line,The ruby of the drop of wine.

The shining pebble of the pond,Thou inscribest with a bond.

In thy momentary play,Would bankrupt Nature to repay.

Ah! what avails it,To hide or to shun.

Whom the Infinite One,Hath granted his throne?.

The heaven high over,Is the deep's lover.

The sun and sea,Informed by thee.

Before me run,And draw me on.

Yet fly me still,As Fate refuses.

To me the heart Fate for me chooses,Is it that my opulent soul.

Was mingled from the generous whole,Sea valleys and the deep of skies.

Furnished several supplies,And the sands whereof I'm made.

Draw me to them self-betrayed?,I turn the proud portfolios.

Which hold the grand designs,Of Salvator, of Guercino.

And Piranesi's lines,I hear the lofty Pæans.

Of the masters of the shell,Who heard the starry music.

And recount the numbers well,Olympian bards who sung.

Divine Ideas below,Which always find us young.

And always keep us so,Oft in streets or humblest places.

I detect far wandered graces,Which from Eden wide astray.

In lowly homes have lost their way,Thee gliding through the sea of form.

Like the lightning through the storm,Somewhat not to be possessed.

Somewhat not to be caressed,No feet so fleet could ever find.

No perfect form could ever bind,Thou eternal fugitive.

Hovering over all that live,Quick and skilful to inspire.

Sweet extravagant desire,Starry space and lily bell.

From the earth-poles to the Line,All between that works or grows.

Every thing is kin of mine,Give me agates for my meat.

Give me cantharids to eat,From air and ocean bring me foods.

From all zones and altitudes,From all natures, sharp and slimy.

Salt and basalt, wild and tame,Tree, and lichen, ape, sea-lion.

Bird and reptile be my game,Ivy for my fillet band.

Blinding dogwood in my hand,Hemlock for my sherbet cull me.

And the prussic juice to lull me,Swing me in the upas boughs.

Vampire-fanned, when I carouse,Too long shut in strait and few.

Thinly dieted on dew,I will use the world, and sift it.

To a thousand humors shift it,As you spin a cherry.

O doleful ghosts, and goblins merry,O all you virtues, methods, mights.

Means, appliances, delights,Reputed wrongs, and braggart rights.

Smug routine, and things allowed,Minorities, things under cloud!.

Hither! take me, use me, fill me,Vein and artery, though ye kill me.

God! I will not be an owl,But sun me in the Capitol.

Virtue runs before the muse,And defies her skill.

She is rapt, and doth refuse,To wait a painter's will.

Star-adoring, occupied,Virtue cannot bend her.

Just to please a poet's pride,To parade her splendor.

The bard must be with good intent,No more his, but hers.

Throw away his pen and paint,Kneel with worshippers.

Then, perchance, a sunny ray,From the heaven of fire.

His lost tools may over-pay,And better his desire.

Who gave thee, O Beauty!,The keys of this breast.

Too credulous lover,Of blest and unblest?.

Say when in lapsed ages,Thee knew I of old.

Or what was the service,For which I was sold?.

When first my eyes saw thee,I found me thy thrall.

By magical drawings,Sweet tyrant of all!.

I drank at thy fountain,False waters of thirst.

Thou intimate stranger,Thou latest and first!.

Thy dangerous glances,Make women of men.

New-born we are melting,Into nature again.

Lavish, lavish promiser,Nigh persuading gods to err.

Guest of million painted forms,Which in turn thy glory warms.

The frailest leaf, the mossy bark,The acorn's cup, the raindrop's arc.

The swinging spider's silver line,The ruby of the drop of wine.