Poem by Henry David Thoreau

Nature

O Nature! I do not aspire
To be the highest in thy quire,--
To be a meteor in the sky,
Or comet that may range on high;
Only a zephyr that may blow
Among the reeds by the river low;
Give me thy most privy place
Where to run my airy race.

In some withdrawn, unpublic mead
Let me sigh upon a reed,
Or in the woods, with leafy din,
Whisper the still evening in:
Some still work give me to do,--
Only--be it near to you!

For I’d rather be thy child
And pupil, in the forest wild,
Than be the king of men elsewhere,
And most sovereign slave of care:
To have one moment of thy dawn,
Than share the city’s year forlorn.

1. The Atlantides
2. Sic Vita
3. Inspiration
4. What's the Railroad to Me?
5. Pray to What Earth Does This Sweet Cold Belong

Caroline Fry (Wilson) Nature ("Still as I watch'd the evening close")

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