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Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803 - 1882 / Boston / United States)
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Good-by
Good-by, proud world, I'm going home,
Thou'rt not my friend, and I'm not thine;
Long through thy weary crowds I roam;
A river-ark on the ocean brine,
Long I've been tossed like the driven foam,
But now, proud world, I'm going home.
Good-by to Flattery's fawning face,
To Grandeur, with his wise grimace,
To upstart Wealth's averted eye,
To supple Office low and high,
To crowded halls, to court, and street,
To frozen hearts, and hasting feet,
To those who go, and those who come,
Good-by, proud world, I'm going home.
I'm going to my own hearth-stone
Bosomed in yon green hills, alone,
A secret nook in a pleasant land,
Whose groves the frolic fairies planned;
Where arches green the livelong day
Echo the blackbird's roundelay,
And vulgar feet have never trod
A spot that is sacred to thought and God.
Oh, when I am safe in my sylvan home,
I tread on the pride of Greece and Rome;
And when I am stretched beneath the pines
Where the evening star so holy shines,
I laugh at the lore and the pride of man,
At the sophist schools, and the learned clan;
For what are they all in their high conceit,
When man in the bush with God may meet.
Read poems about / on: pride, home, green, ocean, river, star, world, friend, god, alone, fairy, school
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Refreshing. Sobering. Comforting. A poem for the ages.
Proto-existential poetry. Emerson was ahead of his time.
Striking realizing poem
i could be saying this when i retire.
i hope ss will be around.
Nice GOOD-by song for the readers of all ages. But remind again the lines before drowning.......
Good-by to Flattery's fawning face,
To Grandeur, with his wise grimace, .......
so not much soft... the growling also revibrating like a sharp and cool knife....Good-by penetrating the existing soil also. Nice put.
its very nice..
......i liked the poem very much........
i like i like i love it
wow that was superb for these words i've heard this poem rymes by the dropp of a dime but it is well to keep in mind to watch out for swine who are unkind but once you leave peaple will beleave that a poem like this is not a swing an miss
Now it is time to realise there is beauty in escapism. But only art can realise it.
At least one of us is finished their points.
Might we all be so lucky.
=)