Page:Poems, Emerson, 1847.djvu/235

223 BLIGHT.

me truths;

For I am weary of the surfaces,

And die of inanition. If I knew

Only the herbs and simples of the wood,

Rue, cinquefoil, gill, vervain, and agrimony,

Blue-vetch, and trillium, hawkweed, sassafras,

Milkweeds, and murky brakes, quaint pipes, and sundew,

And rare and virtuous roots, which in these woods

Draw untold juices from the common earth,

Untold, unknown, and I could surely spell

Their fragrance, and their chemistry apply

By sweet affinities to human flesh,

Driving the foe and stablishing the friend,—

O, that were much, and I could be a part

Of the round day, related to the sun

And planted world, and full executor