This eBook was prepared from the 1867 George Routledge and Sons edition byLes Bowler.

MAY-DAY AND OTHER PIECES
BY RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

CONTENTS.

MAY-DAY.

THE ADIRONDACS.

OCCASIONAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PIECES.

  BRAHMA

  NEMESIS

  FATE

  FREEDOM

  ODE SUNG IN THE TOWN HALL, CONCORD, JULY 4, 1857

  BOSTON HYMN

  VOLUNTARIES

  LOVE AND THOUGHT

  LOVER’S PETITION

  UNA

  LETTERS

  RUBIES

  MERLIN’S SONG

  THE TEST

  SOLUTION

NATURE AND LIFE.

  NATURE

  THE ROMANY GIRL

  DAYS

  THE CHARTIST’S COMPLAINT

  MY GARDEN

  THE TITMOUSE

  SEA-SHORE

  SONG OF NATURE

  TWO RIVERS

  WALDEINSAMKEIT

  TERMINUS

  THE PAST

  THE LAST FAREWELL

  IN MEMORIAM

ELEMENTS.

  EXPERIENCE

  COMPENSATION

  POLITICS

  HEROISM

  CHARACTER

  CULTURE

  FRIENDSHIP

  BEAUTY

  MANNERS

  ART

  SPIRITUAL LAWS

  UNITY

  WORSHIP

QUATRAINS.

TRANSLATIONS.

MAY-DAY.

  Daughter of Heaven and Earth, coy Spring,
With sudden passion languishing,
Maketh all things softly smile,
Painteth pictures mile on mile,
Holds a cup with cowslip-wreaths,
Whence a smokeless incense breathes.
Girls are peeling the sweet willow,
Poplar white, and Gilead-tree,
And troops of boys
Shouting with whoop and hilloa,
And hip, hip three times three.
The air is full of whistlings bland;
What was that I heard
Out of the hazy land?
Harp of the wind, or song of bird,
Or clapping of shepherd’s hands,
Or vagrant booming of the air,
Voice of a meteor lost in day?
Such tidings of the starry sphere
Can this elastic air convey.
Or haply ’t was the cannonade
Of the pent and darkened lake,
Cooled by the pendent mountain’s shade,
Whose deeps, till beams of noonday break,
Afflicted moan, and latest hold
Even unto May the iceberg cold.
Was it a squirrel’s pettish bark,
Or clarionet of jay? or hark,
Where yon wedged line the Nestor leads,
Steering north with raucous cry
Through tracts and provinces of sky,
Every night alighting down
In new landscapes of romance,
Where darkling feed the clamorous clans
By lonely lakes to men unknown.
Come the tumult whence it will,
Voice of sport, or rush of wings,
It is a sound, it is a token
That the marble sleep is broken,
And a change has passed on things.

  Beneath the calm, within the light,
A hid unruly appetite
Of swifter life, a surer hope,
Strains every sense to larger scope,
Impatient to anticipate
The halting steps of aged Fate.
Slow grows the palm, too slow the pearl:
When Nature falters, fain would zeal
Grasp the felloes of her wheel,
And grasping give the orbs another whirl.
Turn swiftlier round, O tardy ball!
And sun this frozen side,
Bring hither back the robin’s call,
Bring back the tulip’s pride.

  Why chidest thou the tardy Spring?
The hardy bunting does not chide;
The blackbirds make the maples ring
With social cheer and jubilee;
The redwing flutes his o-ka-lee,
The robins know the melting snow;
The sparrow meek, prophetic-eyed,
Her nest beside the snow-drift weaves,
Secure the osier yet will hide
Her callow brood in mantling leaves;
And thou, by science all undone,
Why only must thy reason fail
To see the southing of the sun?

  As we thaw frozen flesh with snow,
So Spring will not, foolish fond,
Mix polar night with tropic glow,
N

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