Page:Poems, Emerson, 1847.djvu/154

142 But it is a god,

Knows its own path;

And the outlets of the sky.

It was not for the mean;

It requireth courage stout,

Souls above doubt,

Valor unbending;

Such 'twill reward,—

They shall return

More than they were,

And ever ascending.

Leave all for love;

Yet, hear me, yet,

One word more thy heart behoved,

One pulse more of firm endeavor,—

Keep thee to-day,

To-morrow, forever,

Free as an Arab

Of thy beloved.