Then I said, "I covet truth;
Beauty is unripe childhood's cheat;
I leave it behind with the games of youth:"--
As I spoke, beneath my feet
The ground-pine curled its pretty wreath,
Running over the club-moss burrs;
I inhaled the violet's breath;
Around me stood the oaks and firs;
Pine cones and acorns lay on the ground;
Over me soared the eternal sky,
Full of light and of deity;
Again I saw, again I heard,
The rolling river, the morning bird;--
Beauty through my senses stole;
I yielded myself to the perfect whole.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON

* * * * *



COLUMBUS.


[This poem is taken from the complete works of Joaquin Miller,
copyrighted, published by the Whitaker Ray Company, San Francisco.]

Behind him lay the gray Azores,
Behind the gates of Hercules;