A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers by Henry David Thoreau
page 71 of 428 (16%)
page 71 of 428 (16%)
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And child of your nature,
I have pride still unbended, And blood undescended, Some free independence, And my own descendants. I cannot toil blindly, Though ye behave kindly, And I swear by the rood, I'll be slave to no God. If ye will deal plainly, I will strive mainly, If ye will discover, Great plans to your lover, And give him a sphere Somewhat larger than here. "Verily, my angels! I was abashed on account of my servant, who had no Providence but me; therefore did I pardon him."--_The Gulistan of Sadi._ Most people with whom I talk, men and women even of some originality and genius, have their scheme of the universe all cut and dried,--very _dry_, I assure you, to hear, dry enough to burn, dry-rotted and powder-post, methinks,--which they set up between you and them in the shortest intercourse; an ancient and tottering frame with all its boards blown off. They do not walk without their bed. Some, to me, seemingly very unimportant and unsubstantial things and relations, are for them everlastingly settled,--as Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, and the like. These |
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