Escritas

Poems List

Read the best books first, or you may not have a chance to read them at all.
2

Winter Memories

Winter Memories

Within the circuit of this plodding life
There enter moments of an azure hue,
Untarnished fair as is the violet
Or anemone, when the spring stew them
By some meandering rivulet, which make
The best philosophy untrue that aims
But to console man for his grievences.
I have remembered when the winter came,
High in my chamber in the frosty nights,
When in the still light of the cheerful moon,
On the every twig and rail and jutting spout,
The icy spears were adding to their length
Against the arrows of the coming sun,
How in the shimmering noon of winter past
Some unrecorded beam slanted across
The upland pastures where the Johnwort grew;
Or heard, amid the verdure of my mind,
The bee's long smothered hum, on the blue flag
Loitering amidst the mead; or busy rill,
Which now through all its course stands still and dumb
Its own memorial, - purling at its play
Along the slopes, and through the meadows next,
Until its youthful sound was hushed at last
In the staid current of the lowland stream;
Or seen the furrows shine but late upturned,
And where the fieldfare followed in the rear,
When all the fields around lay bound and hoar
Beneath a thick integument of snow.
So by God's cheap economy made rich
To go upon my winter's task again.
211

To a Marsh Hawk in Spring

To a Marsh Hawk in Spring

There is health in thy gray wing,
Health of nature’s furnishing.
Say, thou modern-winged antique,
Was thy mistress ever sick?
In each heaving of thy wing
Thou dost health and leisure bring,
Thou dost waive disease and pain
And resume new life again.
238

They Who Prepare My Evening Meal Below

They Who Prepare My Evening Meal Below

They who prepare my evening meal below
Carelessly hit the kettle as they go
With tongs or shovel,
And ringing round and round,
Out of this hovel
It makes an eastern temple by the sound.


At first I thought a cow bell right at hand
Mid birches sounded o'er the open land,
Where I plucked flowers
Many years ago,
Spending midsummer hours
With such secure delight they hardly seemed to flow.
140

The Poet's Delay

The Poet's Delay

IN vain I see the morning rise,
In vain observe the western blaze,
Who idly look to other skies,
Expecting life by other ways.


Amidst such boundless wealth without,
I only still am poor within,
The birds have sung their summer out,
But still my spring does not begin.


Shall I then wait the autumn wind,
Compelled to seek a milder day,
And leave no curious nest behind,
No woods still echoing to my lay?
205

The Inward Morning

The Inward Morning

Packed in my mind lie all the clothes
Which outward nature wears,
And in its fashion's hourly change
It all things else repairs.
In vain I look for change abroad,
And can no difference find,
Till some new ray of peace uncalled
Illumes my inmost mind.


What is it gilds the trees and clouds,
And paints the heavens so gay,
But yonder fast-abiding light
With its unchanging ray?


Lo, when the sun streams through the wood,
Upon a winter's morn,
Where'er his silent beams intrude,
The murky night is gone.


How could the patient pine have known
The morning breeze would come,
Or humble flowers anticipate
The insect's noonday hum--


Till the new light with morning cheer
From far streamed through the aisles,
And nimbly told the forest trees
For many stretching miles?


I've heard within my inmost soul
Such cheerful morning news,
In the horizon of my mind
Have seen such orient hues,


As in the twilight of the dawn,
When the first birds awake,
Are heard within some silent wood,
Where they the small twigs break,


Or in the eastern skies are seen,
Before the sun appears,
The harbingers of summer heats
Which from afar he bears.
205

Song Of Nature

Song Of Nature

Mine are the night and morning,
The pits of air, the gull of space,
The sportive sun, the gibbous moon,
The innumerable days.


I hide in the solar glory,
I am dumb in the pealing song,
I rest on the pitch of the torrent,
In slumber I am strong.


No numbers have counted my tallies,
No tribes my house can fill,
I sit by the shining Fount of Life
And pour the deluge still;


And ever by delicate powers
Gathering along the centuries
From race on race the rarest flowers,
My wreath shall nothing miss.


And many a thousand summers
My gardens ripened well,
And light from meliorating stars
With firmer glory fell.


I wrote the past in characters
Of rock and fire the scroll,
The building in the coral sea,
The planting of the coal.


And thefts from satellites and rings
And broken stars I drew,
And out of spent and aged things
I formed the world anew;


What time the gods kept carnival,
Tricked out in star and flower,
And in cramp elf and saurian forms
They swathed their too much power.


Time and Thought were my surveyors,
They laid their courses well,
They boiled the sea, and piled the layers
Of granite, marl and shell.


But he, the man-child glorious, -
Where tarries he the while?
The rainbow shines his harbinger,
The sunset gleams his smile.


My boreal lights leap upward,
Forthright my planets roll,



And still the man-child is not born,
The summit of the whole.


Must time and tide forever run?
Will never my winds go sleep in the west?
Will never my wheels which whirl the sun
And satellites have rest?


Too much of donning and doffing,
Too slow the rainbow fades,
I weary of my robe of snow,
My leaves and my cascades;


I tire of globes and races,
Too long the game is played;
What without him is summer's pomp,
Or winter's frozen shade?


I travail in pain for him,
My creatures travail and wait;
His couriers come by squadrons,
He comes not to the gate.


Twice I have moulded an image,
And thrice outstretched my hand,
Made one of day and one of night
And one of the salt sea-sand.


One in a Judaean manger,
And one by Avon stream,
One over against the mouths of Nile,
And one in the Academe.


I moulded kings and saviors,
And bards o'er kings to rule; -
But fell the starry influence short,
The cup was never full.


Yet whirl the glowing wheels once more,
And mix the bowl again;
Seethe, Fate! the ancient elements,
Heat, cold, wet, dry, and peace, and pain.


Let war and trade and creeds and song
Blend, ripen race on race,
The sunburnt world a man shall breed
Of all the zones and countless days.


No ray is dimmed, no atom worn,
My oldest force is good as new,
And the fresh rose on yonder thorn
Gives back the bending heavens in dew.
246

Tall Ambrosia

Tall Ambrosia

Among the signs of autumn I perceive
The Roman wormwood (called by learned men
Ambrosia elatior, food for gods,—
For to impartial science the humblest weed
Is as immortal once as the proudest flower—)
Sprinkles its yellow dust over my shoes
As I cross the now neglected garden.
—We trample under foot the food of gods
And spill their nectar in each dropp of dew—
My honest shoes, fast friends that never stray
Far from my couch, thus powdered, countryfied,
Bearing many a mile the marks of their adventure,
At the post-house disgrace the Gallic gloss
Of those well dressed ones who no morning dew
Nor Roman wormwood ever have been through,
Who never walk but are transported rather—
For what old crime of theirs I do not gather.
198

Sic Vita

Sic Vita

I am a parcel of vain strivings tied
By a chance bond together,
Dangling this way and that, their links
Were made so loose and wide,
Methinks,
For milder weather.


A bunch of violets without their roots,
And sorrel intermixed,
Encircled by a wisp of straw
Once coiled about their shoots,
The law
By which I'm fixed.


A nosegay which Time clutched from out
Those fair Elysian fields,
With weeds and broken stems, in haste,
Doth make the rabble rout
That waste
The day he yields.


And here I bloom for a short hour unseen,
Drinking my juices up,
With no root in the land
To keep my branches green,
But stand
In a bare cup.


Some tender buds were left upon my stem
In mimicry of life,
But ah! the children will not know,
Till time has withered them,
The woe
With which they're rife.


But now I see I was not plucked for naught,
And after in life's vase
Of glass set while I might survive,
But by a kind hand brought
Alive
To a strange place.


That stock thus thinned will soon redeem its hours,
And by another year,
Such as God knows, with freer air,
More fruits and fairer flowers
Will bear,
While I droop here.
222

Rumors from an Aeolian Harp

Rumors from an Aeolian Harp

There is a vale which none hath seen,
Where foot of man has never been,
Such as here lives with toil and strife,
An anxious and a sinful life.
There every virtue has its birth,
Ere it descends upon the earth,
And thither every deed returns,
Which in the generous bosom burns.


There love is warm, and youth is young,
And poetry is yet unsung.
For Virtue still adventures there,
And freely breathes her native air.


And ever, if you hearken well,
You still may hear its vesper bell,
And tread of high-souled men go by,
Their thoughts conversing with the sky.
295

Comments (0)

ShareOn Facebook WhatsApp X
Log in to post a comment.

NoComments

Identification and basic context

Henry David Thoreau was an American essayist, poet, philosopher, abolitionist, naturalist, tax resister, development critic, surveyor, and historian. He was born in Concord, Massachusetts. His death also occurred in Concord. He came from a family of modest means, with his father operating a pencil-manufacturing business. He was of French Huguenot and English ancestry. He was an American national and wrote in English.

Childhood and education

Thoreau's childhood was spent in Concord, where he developed an early appreciation for nature, often exploring the surrounding woods and rivers. He attended Concord Academy and later entered Harvard College in 1833. At Harvard, he studied classical languages, philosophy, and natural history, graduating in 1837. Following his graduation, he pursued various professions, including teaching, surveying, and writing, all while deepening his philosophical inquiries and his observation of the natural world. He was profoundly influenced by the writings of Ralph Waldo Emerson and the Transcendentalist movement.

Literary trajectory

Thoreau's literary career began in earnest with his association with Emerson and the Transcendentalist circle in Concord. He kept extensive journals throughout his life, which became the source material for his major works. His first published book, 'A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers' (1849), a travelogue and philosophical reflection, initially met with little success. His most famous work, 'Walden; or, Life in the Woods' (1854), is a philosophical meditation on simple living in natural surroundings, based on his two-year experiment living in a cabin by Walden Pond. He was also a prolific essayist, publishing numerous pieces on nature, society, and politics in magazines and newspapers. He was known for his powerful oratory and lectures.

Works, style, and literary characteristics

Thoreau's most significant works are 'Walden' and 'A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers.' Other important essays include 'Civil Disobedience' (originally published as 'Resistance to Civil Government,' 1849), 'Walking' (1862), and 'Nature.' His dominant themes include nature, simplicity, self-reliance, individualism, civil disobedience, social reform, and the critique of industrial society. His style is characterized by its directness, precision, vivid imagery drawn from nature, aphoristic wisdom, and a profound sense of moral conviction. He often employed a direct, conversational tone mixed with elevated philosophical discourse. His poetic voice is that of a keen observer, a moralist, and a prophet urging a return to authentic living. He experimented with blending prose and poetry in his works.

Cultural and historical context

Thoreau lived during a period of immense social and intellectual ferment in America, including the height of the Transcendentalist movement, the abolitionist cause, and the burgeoning Industrial Revolution. He was a staunch abolitionist and a supporter of John Brown. His ideas on civil disobedience, particularly in response to the Mexican-American War and slavery, were radical for their time and have had a lasting impact on political thought and activism. He was part of a vibrant intellectual community in Concord that included Emerson, Hawthorne, and Alcott.

Personal life

Thoreau's personal life was deeply intertwined with his intellectual and philosophical pursuits. He lived a relatively simple life, often relying on manual labor and the hospitality of friends, most notably Ralph Waldo Emerson, who provided him with land to build his cabin at Walden Pond. He never married and had no children. His close relationships with his family and friends, particularly Emerson, were central to his life. He maintained a lifelong commitment to his principles, even when it led to personal hardship, such as his brief arrest for refusing to pay his poll tax.

Recognition and reception

During his lifetime, Thoreau's works were not widely popular, and he struggled financially as a writer. 'Walden' sold poorly in its initial years. However, he gained a reputation as a formidable thinker and a powerful lecturer among his intellectual peers. Posthumously, his influence grew exponentially. 'Civil Disobedience' became a foundational text for leaders like Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr. 'Walden' is now considered a classic of American literature, celebrated for its insights into nature, self-sufficiency, and societal critique.

Influences and legacy

Thoreau was influenced by Ralph Waldo Emerson, the ancient Greek philosophers, Eastern philosophies (particularly Hinduism and Buddhism), and the writings of the Romantic poets. His legacy is immense, particularly his articulation of civil disobedience as a moral imperative and his enduring advocacy for a life lived in harmony with nature. He inspired countless writers, activists, and thinkers, shaping environmentalism, libertarian thought, and the broader understanding of individual conscience in relation to the state. His writings continue to be a touchstone for those seeking a more meaningful and principled existence.

Interpretation and critical analysis

Thoreau's work is subject to ongoing critical analysis, focusing on his philosophy of nature, his critique of consumerism and industrialization, his complex relationship with American democracy, and his radical ideas on individual liberty and resistance to unjust laws. Debates continue regarding his views on race, his place within the abolitionist movement, and the precise meaning and application of his concept of civil disobedience.

Curiosities and lesser-known aspects

Thoreau was an avid collector of natural specimens and kept meticulous records of the flora and fauna he encountered. He was also a skilled surveyor and used his knowledge of the land to supplement his income. He had a peculiar habit of sleeping outdoors in all seasons. He was a vegetarian and an advocate for temperance. Despite his solitary nature, he was known for his sharp wit and occasional cantankerousness.

Death and memory

Henry David Thoreau died of tuberculosis in Concord, Massachusetts, at the age of 44. His death was mourned by his intellectual circle, but his true impact on American thought and literature was not fully realized until later. His journals, published posthumously, further revealed the depth and breadth of his observations and reflections. His legacy is preserved through the continued study of his writings and the enduring relevance of his ideas on nature, freedom, and individual conscience.