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Deep in the man sits fast his fate To mould his fortunes, mean or great: Unknown to Cromwell as to me Was Cromwell's measure or degree; Unknown to him as to his horse, If he than his groom be better or worse. He works, plots, fights, in rude affairs, With squires, lords, kings, his craft compares, Till late he learned, through doubt and fear, Broad England harbored not his peer: Obeying time, the last to own The Genius from its cloudy throne. For the prevision is allied Unto the thing so signified; Or say, the foresight that awaits Is the same Genius that creates.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Read poems about / on: horse, fate, fear, time, work
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User Rating: |
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6.9
/10 (19 votes) |
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Click here to write your comments about this poem (Fate by Ralph Waldo Emerson)
Thalia H (5/1/2007 8:16:00 PM)
wtf i go to this school...im confused for some reason idk (i dont know) why....well anyways i gotta comment this cause its from my school..wierd.. well i like this poem i like how it ryhmes and has a meaning to the poem and i like the words indicated |
Janet Mulligan (6/6/2006 1:34:00 PM)
When I read this poem, I find myself believing Emerson's notion was to give 'foresight' the power of an universal entity. That, which is to the measured effort opposite that man 'Cromwell' exherts in his world, is the strength and power of the universal entity. By this, says man is subject to the fate of himself. Whomever is genius is not pertinent, for his genius quality he hides from his ego self.
I love this poem. |
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