Page:Poems of nature, Thoreau, 1895.djvu/130

106 Yon sun is naked, bare of satellite,

Unless our earth and moon that office hold;

Though his perpetual day feareth no night,

And his perennial summer dreads no cold.

Mankind may delve, but cannot my wealth spend;

If I no partial wealth appropriate,

No armèd ships unto the Indies send,

None robs me of my Orient estate.