Page:Poems, Household Edition, Emerson, 1904.djvu/357

Rh Northward he went to the snowy hills,

At court he sat in the grave Divan.

His music was the south-wind's sigh,

His lamp, the maiden's downcast eye,

And ever the spell of beauty came

And turned the drowsy world to flame.

By lake and stream and gleaming hall

And modest copse and the forest tall,

Where'er he went, the magic guide

Kept its place by the poet's side.

Said melted the days like cups of pearl,

Served high and low, the lord and the churl,

Loved harebells nodding on a rock,

A cabin hung with curling smoke,

Ring of axe or hum of wheel

Or gleam which use can paint on steel,

And huts and tents; nor loved he less

Stately lords in palaces,

Princely women hard to please,

Fenced by form and ceremony,

Decked by courtly rites and dress

And etiquette of gentilesse.

But when the mate of the snow and wind,

He left each civil scale behind:

Him wood-gods fed with honey wild

And of his memory beguiled.

He loved to watch and wake

When the wing of the south-wind whipt the lake

And the glassy surface in ripples brake