Page:Poems, Household Edition, Emerson, 1904.djvu/418

382 The riches of a spotless memory,

The eloquence of truth, the wisdom got

By searching of a clear and loving eye

That seeth as God seeth. These are their gifts,

And Time, who keeps God's word, brings on the day

To seal the marriage of these minds with thine,

Thine everlasting lovers. Ye shall be

The salt of all the elements, world of the world.

TO-DAY

no coffined clay, nor publish wide

The resurrection of departed pride.

Safe in their ancient crannies, dark and deep,

Let kings and conquerors, saints and soldiers sleep—

Late in the world,—too late perchance for fame,

Just late enough to reap abundant blame,—

I choose a novel theme, a bold abuse

Of critic charters, an unlaurelled Muse.

Old mouldy men and books and names and lands

Disgust my reason and defile my hands.

I had as lief respect an ancient shoe,

As love old things for age, and hate the new.

I spurn the Past, my mind disdains its nod,

Nor kneels in homage to so mean a God.