Page:Poems, Household Edition, Emerson, 1904.djvu/229

Rh The other slow,—this the Prometheus,

And that the Jove,—yet, howsoever hid,

It was from Jove the other stole his fire,

And, without Jove, the good had never been.

It is not Iroquois or cannibals,

But ever the free race with front sublime,

And these instructed by their wisest too,

Who do the feat, and lift humanity.

Let not him mourn who best entitled was,

Nay, mourn not one: let him exult,

Yea, plant the tree that bears best apples, plant,

And water it with wine, nor watch askance

Whether thy sons or strangers eat the fruit:

Enough that mankind eat and are refreshed.

We flee away from cities, but we bring

The best of cities with us, these learned classifiers,

Men knowing what they seek, armed eyes of experts.

We praise the guide, we praise the forest life:

But will we sacrifice our dear-bought lore

Of books and arts and trained experiment,

Or count the Sioux a match for Agassiz?

O no, not we! Witness the shout that shook

Wild Tupper Lake; witness the mute all-hail

The joyful traveller gives, when on the verge

Of craggy Indian wilderness he hears

From a log cabin stream Beethoven's notes

On the piano, played with master's hand.

Well done!' he cries; 'the bear is kept at bay,