Page:Poems, Emerson, 1847.djvu/108

96 Round about, a hundred miles,

With invitation to the sea, and to the bordering isles.

In his own loom's garment dressed,

By his own bounty blessed,

Fast abides this constant giver,

Pouring many a cheerful river;

To far eyes, an aerial isle

Unploughed, which finer spirits pile,

Which morn and crimson evening paint

For bard, for lover, and for saint;

The country's core,

Inspirer, prophet evermore;

Pillar which God aloft had set

So that men might it not forget;

It should be their life's ornament,

And mix itself with each event;

Their calendar and dial,

Barometer and chemic phial,

Garden of berries, perch of birds,

Pasture of pool-haunting herds,