Men Say They Know Many Things
Men say they know many things,
But lo’ they have taken wings, —
The arts and sciences,
And a thousand appliances,
The wind that blows
Is all that any body knows
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O Nature! I do not aspire
To be the highest in thy quire,—
To be a meteor in the sky,
Or comet that may range on high;
Only a zephyr that may blow
Among the reeds by the river low;
Give me thy most privy place
Where to run my airy race.
2019
My love must be as free
As is the eagle’s wing,
Hovering o’er land and sea
And everything
I must not dim my eye
In thy saloon,
I must not leave my sky
And nightly moon
1943
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 Of midnight vision, gathering up thy skirts; By night star-veiling, and by day Darkening the light and blotting out the sun; Go thou, my incense, upward from this hearth, And ask the gods to pardon this clear flame.
1843