Greybeards at Play/Oneness

The Oneness of the Philosopher With Nature
I love to see the little stars
 * All dancing to one tune;

I think quite highly of the Sun,
 * And kindly of the Moon.

The million forests of the Earth
 * Come trooping in to tea.

The great Niagara waterfall
 * Is never shy with me.

I am the tiger's confidant,
 * And never mention names:

The lion drops the formal "Sir,"
 * And lets me call him James.

Into my ear the blushing Whale
 * Stammers his love. I know

Why the Rhinoceros is sad,
 * --Ah, child! 'twas long ago.

I am akin to all the Earth
 * By many a tribal sign:

The aged Pig will often wear
 * That sad, sweet smile of mine.

My niece, the Barnacle, has got
 * My piercing eyes of black;

The Elephant has got my nose,
 * I do not want it back.

I know the strange tale of the Slug;
 * The Early Sin--the Fall--

The Sleep--the Vision--and the Vow--
 * The Quest--the Crown--the Call.

And I have loved the Octopus,
 * Since we were boys together.

I love the Vulture and the Shark:
 * I even love the weather.

I love to bask in sunny fields,
 * And when that hope is vain,

I go and bask in Baker Street,
 * All in the pouring rain.

Come snow! where fly, by some strange law,
 * Hard snowballs--without noise--

Through streets untenanted, except
 * By good unconscious boys.

Come fog! exultant mystery--
 * Where, in strange darkness rolled,

The end of my own nose becomes
 * A lovely legend old.

Come snow, and hail, and thunderbolts,
 * Sleet, fire, and general fuss;

Come to my arms, come all at once--
 * Oh photograph me thus!