gs more true and deep
Than we mortals dream,
Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream!

We look before and after,
And pine for what is not;
Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.

Yet if we could scorn
Hate, and pride, and fear;
If we were things born
Not to shed a tear,
I know not how thy joy we ever should come near.

Better than all measures
Of delightful sound,
Better than all treasures
That in books are found,
Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!

Teach me half the gladness
That thy brain must know,
Such harmonious madness
From my lips would flow,
The world should listen then, as I am listening now!

THE POND IN WINTER

_By_ HENRY DAVID THOREAU

After a still winter night I awoke with the impression that some
question had been put to me, which I had been endeavoring in vain to
answer in my sleep, as what--how--when--where? But there was dawning
Nature, in whom all creatures live, looking in at my broad windows with
serene and satisfied face, and no question on _her_ lips. I awoke to an
answered question, to Nature and daylight. The snow lying deep on the
earth dotted with young pines, and the very slope of the hill on which
my house is placed, seemed to say, Forward! Nature puts no question and
answers none which we mortals ask. She has long ago taken her
resolution. "O Prince, our eyes contemplate with admiration and transmit
to the soul the wonderful and varied spectacle of this universe. The
night veils without doubt a part of this glorious creation; but day
comes to reveal to us this great work, which extends from earth even
into the plains of the ether."

[Illustration: KNEELING TO DRINK]

Then to my morning work. First I take an axe and pail and go in search
of water if that be not a dream. After a cold and snowy night it needed
a divining rod to find it. Every winter the liquid and trembling surface
of the pond, which was so sensitive to every breath, and reflected every
light and shadow, becomes solid to the depth of a foot or a foot and a
half, so that it will support the heaviest teams, and perchance the snow
covers it to an equal depth, and it is not to be distinguished from any