Song Of Nature
Автор книги Ralph Waldo Emerson
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Mine are the night and morning,
The pits of air, the gulf of space,
The sportive sun, the gibbous moon,
The innumerable days.
I hid in the solar glory,
I am dumb in the pealing song,
I rest on the pitch of the torrent,
In slumber I am strong.
No numbers have counted my tallies,
No tribes my house can fill,
I sit by the shining Fount of Life,
And pour the deluge still;
And ever by delicate powers.
Gathering along the centuries.
From race on race the rarest flowers,
My wreath shall nothing miss.
And many a thousand summers.
My apples ripened well,
And light from meliorating stars.
With firmer glory fell.
