Henry David Thoreau: Всі вірші поета

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Smoke

Light-winged Smoke, Icarian bird,

Melting thy pinions in thy upward flight,

Lark without song, and messenger of dawn

Circling above the hamlets as they nest;

Or else, departing dream, and shadowy form

Of midnight vision, gathering up thy skirts;

By night star-veiling, and by day

Darkening the light and blotting out the sun;

by Henry David Thoreau

Prayer

Great God, I ask for no meaner pelf

Than that I may not disappoint myself,

That in my action I may soar as high

As I can now discern with this clear eye.

And next in value, which thy kindness lends,

That I may greatly disappoint my friends,

Howe'er they think or hope that it may be,

They may not dream how thou'st distinguished me.

by Henry David Thoreau

They Who Prepare My Evening Meal

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,

by Henry David Thoreau

Pray To What Earth Does This Sweet Cold Belong

Pray to what earth does this sweet cold belong,

Which asks no duties and no conscience?

The moon goes up by leaps, her cheerful path

In some far summer stratum of the sky,

While stars with their cold shine bedot her way.

The fields gleam mildly back upon the sky,

And far and near upon the leafless shrubs

The snow dust still emits a silver light.

by Henry David Thoreau

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.

by Henry David Thoreau

Inspiration

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,

From my poor love of anything,

The verse is weak and shallow as its source.

by Henry David Thoreau

The Moon

Time wears her not; she doth his chariot guide; Mortality below her orb is placed.

-Raleigh

The full-orbed moon with unchanged ray

Mounts up the eastern sky,

Not doomed to these short nights for aye,

But shining steadily.

She does not wane, but my fortune,

Which her rays do not bless,

by Henry David Thoreau

I Knew A Man By Sight

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,

by Henry David Thoreau

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.

by Henry David Thoreau

My Life Has Been The Poem

My life has been the poem

I would have writ,

But I could not both live

and utter it.

by Henry David Thoreau

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.

by Henry David Thoreau

What's The Railroad To Me?

What's the railroad to me?

I never go to see

Where it ends.

It fills a few hollows,

And makes banks for the swallows,

It sets the sand a-blowing,

And the blackberries a-growing.

by Henry David Thoreau