"A LETTER" POEM BY RALPH WALDO EMERSON

Dear brother, would you know the life, 

Please God, that I would lead? 

On the first wheels that quit this weary town 

Over yon western bridges I would ride 

And with a cheerful benison forsake 

Each street and spire and roof incontinent. 

Then would I seek where God might guide my steps,

Deep in a woodland tract, a sunny farm, 

Amid the mountain counties, Hant, Franklin, Berks, 

Where down the rock ravine a river roars, 

Even from a brook, and where old woods 

Not tamed and cleared cumber the ground 

With their centennial wrecks. 

Find me a slope where I can feel the sun 

And mark the rising of the early stars. 

There will I bring my books, — my household gods, 

The reliquaries of my dead saint, and dwell 

In the sweet odor of her memory. 

Then in the uncouth solitude unlock 

My stock of art, plant dials in the grass, 

Hang in the air a bright thermometer 

And aim a telescope at the inviolate sun.