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Poem by Ralph Waldo Emerson


The Apology


THINK me not unkind and rude
    That I walk alone in grove and glen; 
I go to the god of the wood
    To fetch his word to men.

Tax not my sloth that I
    Fold my arms beside the brook; 
Each cloud that floated in the sky
    Writes a letter in my book.

Chide me not, laborious band,
    For the idle flowers I brought; 
Every aster in my hand
    Goes home loaded with a thought.

There was never mystery
    But 'tis figured in the flowers; 
Was never secret history
    But birds tell it in the bowers.

One harvest from thy field
    Homeward brought the oxen strong; 
A second crop thine acres yield,
    Which I gather in a song. 



Ralph Waldo Emerson


Ralph Waldo Emerson's other poems:
  1. Alphonso of Castile
  2. To Rhea
  3. The Visit
  4. Each and All
  5. Mithridates


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Lewis Morris The Apology ("I MAY not scorn, I cannot prize")

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