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8.1
/10
(28
votes)
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I think awhile of Love, and while I think,
Love is to me a world,
Sole meat and sweetest drink,
And close connecting link
Tween heaven and earth.
I only know it is, not how or why,
My greatest happiness;
However hard I try,
Not if I were to die,
Can I explain.
I fain would ask my friend how it can be,
But when the time arrives,
Then Love is more lovely
Than anything to me,
And so I'm dumb.
For if the truth were known, Love cannot speak,
But only thinks and does;
Though surely out 'twill leak
Without the help of Greek,
Or any tongue.
A man may love the truth and practise it,
Beauty he may admire,
And goodness not omit,
As much as may befit
To reverence.
But only when these three together meet,
As they always incline,
And make one soul the seat,
And favorite retreat,
Of loveliness;
When under kindred shape, like loves and hates
And a kindred nature,
Proclaim us to be mates,
Exposed to equal fates
Eternally;
And each may other help, and service do,
Drawing Love's bands more tight,
Service he ne'er shall rue
While one and one make two,
And two are one;
In such case only doth man fully prove
Fully as man can do,
What power there is in Love
His inmost soul to move
Resistlessly.
______
Two sturdy oaks I mean, which side by side,
Withstand the winter's storm,
And spite of wind and tide,
Grow up the meadow's pride,
For both are strong
Above they barely touch, but undermined
Down to their deepest source,
Admiring you shall find
Their roots are intertwined
Insep'rably.
Henry David Thoreau
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Read poems about / on: truth, happiness, pride, winter, nature, power, together, friend, beauty, heaven, wind, love, world
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Comments about this poem (Friendship
by
Henry David Thoreau
) |
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Click here to write your
comments about this poem (Friendship by
Henry David Thoreau
)
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Eve Anderson
(4/18/2009 6:57:00 PM) |
Great Poem! :) So well written! Have a good day!
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Michael Harmon
(4/18/2009 12:10:00 AM) |
Prior to making a comment, perhaps reading a poet's PH biography might be beneficial.
:)
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Michael Pruchnicki
(4/18/2008 8:32:00 AM) |
It shouldn't surprise me, but somehow it always does when
I read comments posted about a poet/philosopher's work
over a hundred years old with such harsh judgment!
A psychiatric clinic for his refusal to become domesticated?
Did we read the same poem?
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Cecilia Nicoletti
(4/19/2007 8:49:00 AM) |
If Thoreau was alive he will be probably into a pschitryc clinic for his deny to become domesticated.
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Nick Mitchell
(7/16/2006 5:37:00 PM) |
Claire -
The author of this poem, Henry David Thoreau, has been dead for 144 years.
As such, I don't think he would mind if you put this poem up in your friendship group.
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Claire Page
(4/18/2006 9:34:00 AM) |
Your poem on Friendship is sobeautiful, I am wondering if I may put it up on my friendship group that I run?
Claire Page
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Merse Cohen
(7/12/2005 9:43:00 PM) |
sounds like 3000 BC. or something. great rhyming. drink link think etc. wonderful
bravo
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Henry David Thoreau
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