Page:Poems, Household Edition, Emerson, 1904.djvu/175

Rh So to be husbanded for poorer days.

Why need I volumes, if one word suffice?

Why need I galleries, when a pupil's draught

After the master's sketch fills and o'erfills

My apprehension? Why seek Italy,

Who cannot circumnavigate the sea

Of thoughts and things at home, but still adjourn

The nearest matters for a thousand days?

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