Ralph Waldo Emerson Poems

On being asked, Whence is the flower?

In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes,
I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods,
...

The debt is paid,
The verdict said,
The Furies laid,
The plague is stayed,
...

Virtue runs before the muse
And defies her skill,
She is rapt, and doth refuse
To wait a painter's will.
...

Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air
Hides hill and woods, the river, and the heaven,
...

The lords of life, the lords of life,-
I saw them pass,
In their own guise,
Like and unlike,
...

The Sphinx is drowsy,
The wings are furled;
Her ear is heavy,
She broods on the world.
...

The sun set, but set not his hope:
Stars rose; his faith was earlier up:
Fixed on the enormous galaxy,
Deeper and older seemed his eye;
...

Who shall tell what did befall,
Far away in time, when once,
Over the lifeless ball,
Hung idle stars and suns?
...

"May be true what I had heard,
Earth's a howling wilderness
Truculent with fraud and force,"
Said I, strolling through the pastures,
...

I rake no coffined clay, nor publish wide
The resurrection of departed pride.
Safe in their ancient crannies, dark and deep,
Let kings and conquerors, saints and soldiers sleep--
...