Henry David Thoreau

Whate'er we leave to God,
God does,   And blesses us;
The work we choose should be our own,   God leaves alone
If with light head erect I sing,   Though all the Muses lend their force,

ED Smoke,
Icarian bird, Melting thy pinions in thy upward flight, Lark without song, and the messenger of dawn, Circling above the hamlets as thy nest; Or else, departing dream, and shadowy form Of midnight vision, gathering up thy skirts; By...

I am a parcel of vain strivings
By a chance bond together,
Dangling this way and that, their
Were made so loose and wide,

Indeed indeed,
I cannot tell,
Though I ponder on it well,
Which were easier to state,

In
To
The amber of
At a high soul

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 di...

Let such pure hate still underprop Our love, that we may be Each other's conscience,
And have our sympathy Mainly from thence
We'll one another treat like gods,
And all the faith we have In virtue and in truth, bestow On either, and...

Conscience is instinct bred in the house,
Feeling and Thinking propagate the sin By an unnatural breeding in and in
I say,
Turn it out doors,

Sometimes a mortal feels in himself Nature — not his Father but his Mother stirs within him, and he becomes immortal with herimmortality
From time to time she claims kindredship with us, and some globule from her veins steals up into our own<...

LL things are current found On earthly ground, Spirits and elements Have their descents
Night and day, year on year, High and low, far and near, These are our own aspects, These are our own regrets
Ye gods of the shore, Who abide evermor...

Here lies the body of this world,
Whose soul alas to hell is hurled
This golden youth long since was past,
Its silver manhood went as fast,

I knew a man by sight, A blameless wight, Who, for a year or more, Had daily passed my door,
Yet converse none had had with him
I met him in a lane, Him and his cane, About three miles from home, Where I had chanced to roam,
And vol...