Page:Writings of Henry David Thoreau (1906) v7.djvu/495

1845-47] Furnish his stall

With better yet,—

For earthly pleasures

Celestial pains,

Heavenly losses

For earthly gains.

Still to begin—unheard-of sin

A fallen angel—a risen man

Never returns to where he began.

Some childlike labor

Here to perform,

Some baby-house

To keep out the storm,

And make the sun laugh

While he doth warm,

And the moon cry

To think of her youth,

The months gone by,

And wintering truth.

How long to morning?

Can any tell?

How long since the warning

On our ears fell?

The bridegroom cometh

Know we not well?

Are we not ready,

Our packet made,

Our hearts steady,

Last words said?

Must we still eat