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The Inward Morning. ‘The Inward Morning’ by Henry David Thoreau is a complex poem that taps into many of the traditional beliefs of the transcendental poets. Packed in my mind lie all the clothes. Which outward nature wears, And in its fashion’s hourly change. It all things else repairs.
Henry David Thoreau. 1817 –. 1862. Light-winged Smoke! Icarian bird, Melting thy pinions in thy upward flight; Lark without song, and messenger of dawn, Circling above the hamlets as thy nest; Or else, departing dream, and shadowy form.
This poem is in the public domain. Although he thought of himself as a poet, Henry David Thoreau's most defining work was his book, Walden. About Henry David Thoreau
1862. Great God, I ask thee for no meaner pelf. Than that I may not disappoint myself; That in my action I may soar as high. As I can now discern with this clear eye. And next in value, which thy kindness lends, That I may greatly disappoint my friends, Howe’er they think or hope that it may be, They may not dream how thou’st distinguished me.
By Henry David Thoreau. Among the signs of autumn I perceive. The Roman wormwood (called by learned men. Ambrosia elatior, food for gods,—. For to impartial science the humblest weed. Is as immortal once as the proudest flower—) Sprinkles its yellow dust over my shoes. As I cross the now neglected garden. —We trample under foot the food ...
Henry David Thoreau was an American author, poet, philosopher, abolitionist, naturalist, tax resister, development critic, surveyor, historian, and leading transcendentalist. He is best known for his book Walden, a reflection upon simple living in natural surroundings, and his essay Civil Disobedience, an argument for individual resistance to ...
The wind alone it is makes every sound, Shaking down crystals on the leaves below. For shame the sun will never show himself, Who could not with his beams e'er melt me so; My dripping locks--they would become an elf, Who in a beaded coat does gayly go. A poem - My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read, 'Twixt every page my thoughts go stray at ...
