The waters know their own and draw
The brook that springs in yonder height;
So flows the good with equal law
Unto the soul of pure delight.

The stars come nightly to the sky;
The tidal wave unto the sea;

Nor time, nor space, nor deep, nor high,
Can keep my own away from me.

John Burroughs

THE PILGRIM'S SCRIP

Give me solitude-give me Nature-give me again, O Nature, your primal sanities.

So did Guy betimes discover
Fortune was his guard and lover;

Whitman

In strange junctures, felt, with awe
His own symmetry with law.

The rules to men made evident
By Him who built the day,
The columns of the firmament

Not firmer based than they.

Emerson

Emerson

THE PILGRIM'S SCRIP

INFLUENCE OF NATURAL OBJECTS

IN CALLING FORTH AND STRENGTHENING IMAGINATION IN BOYHOOD AND EARLY YOUTH

ISDOM and Spirit of the Universe!

THE

Thou Soul, that art the Eternity of
thought!

And giv'st to forms and images a breath
And everlasting motion! not in vain,

By day or starlight, thus from my first dawn
Of childhood didst thou intertwine for me
The passions that build up our human soul;
Not with the mean and vulgar works of Man;
But with high objects, with enduring things,
With life and nature; purifying thus
The elements of feeling and of thought,
And sanctifying by such discipline
Both pain and fear,- until we recognize
A grandeur in the beatings of the heart.

William Wordsworth

ODE

INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY

FROM RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY CHILDHOOD

T

I

HERE was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,

The earth, and every common sight,

To me did seem

Apparell'd in celestial light,

The glory and the freshness of a dream.
It is not now as it hath been of yore; —
Turn wheresoe'er I may

By night or day,

The things which I have seen I now can see no

more.

II

The rainbow comes and goes,
And lovely is the rose;

The moon doth with delight

Look round her when the heavens are bare;

Waters on a starry night

Are beautiful and fair;

The sunshine is a glorious birth;

But yet I know, where'er I go,

That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.

III

Now, while the birds thus sing a joyous song, And while the young lambs bound

As to the tabor's sound,

To me alone there came a thought of grief:
A timely utterance gave that thought relief,

And I again am strong:

The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep;

No more shall grief of mine the season wrong: I hear the echoes through the mountains throng, The winds come to me from the fields of sleep, And all the earth is gay;

Land and sea

Give themselves up to jollity,

And with the heart of May