BRAHMA
by: Ralph Waldo Emerson
(1803-1882)
- F the red
slayer think he slays,
- Or if the slain think he is slain,
- They know not well the subtle ways
- I keep, and pass, and turn again.
-
- Far or forgot to me is near;
- Shadow and sunlight are the same;
- The vanish'd gods to me appear;
- And one to me are shame and fame.
-
- They reckon ill who leave me out;
- When me they fly, I am the wings;
- I am the doubter and the doubt,
- And I the hymn the Brahmin sings.
-
- The strong gods pine for my abode,
- And pine in vain the sacred Seven;
- But thou, meek lover of the good!
- Find me, and turn thy back on heaven.
"Brahma" is reprinted
from Yale Book of American Verse. Ed. Thomas R. Lounsbury.
New Haven: Yale University Press, 1912. |
MORE POEMS BY RALPH WALDO EMERSON |
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