Clean swept herefrom.
‘They called me theirs,
Who so controlled me;
Yet every one
Wished to stay, and is gone,
How am I theirs,
If they cannot hold me,
But I hold them?’
When I heard the Earth-song
I was no longer brave;
My avarice cooled
Like lust in the chill of the grave.
The Rhodora
On Being Asked, Whence Is the Flower?
In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes,
I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods,
Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook,
To please the desert and the sluggish brook
The purple petals, fallen in the pool,
Made the black water with their beauty gay;
Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool,
And court the flower that cheapens his array.
Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why
This charm is wasted on the earth and sky,
Tell them, dear, that if eyes were made for seeing,
Then Beauty is its own excuse for being:
Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose!
I never thought to ask, I never knew:
But, in my simple ignorance, suppose
The self-same Power that brought me there brought you.
The Humble-Bee
Burly, dozing humble-bee,
Where thou art is clime for me.
Let them sail for Porto Rique,
Far-off heats through seas to seek;
I will follow thee alone,
Thou animated torrid-zone!
Zigzag steerer, desert cheerer,
Let me chase thy waving lines;
Keep me nearer, me thy hearer,
Singing over shrubs and vines.
+
Наследники?
Смылись, как пена.
Законник и закон,
Государство —
Начисто прочь.
Зовут своею
Те, что мной правят;
Но ни один
Не остался, ушёл;
Как же я их,
Коль не держат меня,
Я их держу?»
Услыхав песнь Земли,
Храбрость не сохранил;
Я алчность унял,
Как похоть у хлада могил.
Рододе́ндрон75
О том, как спросили, откуда взялся этот цветок
Был май, глушь нашу бриз дырявил, шал,
И в чаще рододендрон я сыскал;
В сыром углу цветок, без листьев гол,
На радость ручейку-лентяю цвёл;
Пурпурных лепестков весёлый рой
Мрак омута украсить смог собой;
Малиновка здесь перья освежит, 
