1 min read
Слушать(AI)Compensation
Why should I keep holiday,
When other men have none?
Why but because when these are gay,
I sit and mourn alone.
And why when mirth unseals all
Should mine alone be dumb?
Ah! late I spoke to silent throngs,
And now their hour is come.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Ralph Waldo Emerson (May 25, 1803 – April 27, 1882), who went by his middle name Waldo, was an American essayist, lecturer, philosopher, and poe
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments
Other author posts
Song of Nature
Mine are the night and morning, The pits of air, the gulf of space, The sportive sun, the gibbous moon, The innumerable days
Brahma
If the red slayer think he slays, Or if the slain think he is slain, They know not well the subtle waysI keep, and pass, and turn again Far or forgot to me is near;
Fate
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
Uriel
It fell in the ancient periods Which the brooding soul surveys, Or ever the wild Time coin'd itself Into calendar months and days This was the lapse of Uriel, Which in Paradise befell