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<p>This poem is very beautiful it really brings out the real nature in just a few words it has the beauty outline and its rather remarkable enjoy</p>
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<blockquote>Song Of Nature - Poem by Ralph Waldo Emerson </blockquote>
<blockquote> Mine are the night and morning,</blockquote>
<blockquote><br>
The pits of air, the gulf of space,<br>
The sportive sun, the gibbous moon,<br>
The innumerable days.<br>
</blockquote>
<blockquote>I hid in the solar glory,<br>
I am dumb in the pealing song,<br>
I rest on the pitch of the torrent,<br>
In slumber I am strong.<br>
</blockquote>
<blockquote>No numbers have counted my tallies,<br>
No tribes my house can fill,<br>
I sit by the shining Fount of Life,<br>
And pour the deluge still;<br>
</blockquote>
<blockquote>And ever by delicate powers<br>
Gathering along the centuries<br>
From race on race the rarest flowers,<br>
My wreath shall nothing miss.<br>
</blockquote>
<blockquote>And many a thousand summers<br>
My apples ripened well,<br>
And light from meliorating stars<br>
With firmer glory fell.<br>
</blockquote>
<blockquote>I wrote the past in characters<br>
Of rock and fire the scroll,<br>
The building in the coral sea,<br>
The planting of the coal.<br>
</blockquote>
<blockquote>And thefts from satellites and rings<br>
And broken stars I drew,<br>
And out of spent and aged things<br>
I formed the world anew;<br>
</blockquote>
<blockquote>What time the gods kept carnival,<br>
Tricked out in star and flower,<br>
And in cramp elf and saurian forms<br>
They swathed their too much power.<br>
</blockquote>
<blockquote>Time and Thought were my surveyors,<br>
They laid their courses well,<br>
They boiled the sea, and baked the layers<br>
Or granite, marl, and shell.<br>
</blockquote>
<blockquote>But he, the man-child glorious,--<br>
Where tarries he the while?<br>
The rainbow shines his harbinger,<br>
The sunset gleams his smile.<br>
</blockquote>
<blockquote>My boreal lights leap upward,<br>
Forthright my planets roll,<br>
And still the man-child is not born,<br>
The summit of the whole.<br>
</blockquote>
<blockquote>Must time and tide forever run?<br>
Will never my winds go sleep in the west?<br>
Will never my wheels which whirl the sun<br>
And satellites have rest?<br>
</blockquote>
<blockquote>Too much of donning and doffing,<br>
Too slow the rainbow fades,<br>
I weary of my robe of snow,<br>
My leaves and my cascades;<br>
</blockquote>
<blockquote>I tire of globes and races,<br>
Too long the game is played;<br>
What without him is summer's pomp,<br>
Or winter's frozen shade?<br>
</blockquote>
<blockquote>I travail in pain for him,<br>
My creatures travail and wait;<br>
His couriers come by squadrons,<br>
He comes not to the gate.<br>
</blockquote>
<blockquote>Twice I have moulded an image,<br>
And thrice outstretched my hand,<br>
Made one of day, and one of night,<br>
And one of the salt sea-sand.<br>
</blockquote>
<blockquote>One in a Judaean manger,<br>
And one by Avon stream,<br>
One over against the mouths of Nile,<br>
And one in the Academe.<br>
</blockquote>
<blockquote>I moulded kings and saviours,<br>
And bards o'er kings to rule;--<br>
But fell the starry influence short,<br>
The cup was never full.<br>
</blockquote>
<blockquote>Yet whirl the glowing wheels once more,<br>
And mix the bowl again;<br>
Seethe, fate! the ancient elements,<br>
Heat, cold, wet, dry, and peace, and pain.<br>
</blockquote>
<blockquote>Let war and trade and creeds and song<br>
Blend, ripen race on race,<br>
The sunburnt world a man shall breed<br>
Of all the zones, and countless days.<br>
</blockquote>
<blockquote>No ray is dimmed, no atom worn,<br>
My oldest force is good as new,<br>
And the fresh rose on yonder thorn<br>
Gives back the bending heavens in dew. </blockquote>
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