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<\/h2>\n<\/h2>\nby Henry David Thoreau<\/p>\n
\u2018Friends, Romans, Countrymen, and Lovers.\u2019
\nLet such pure hate still underprop
\nOur love, that we may be
\nEach other\u2019s conscience,
\nAnd have our sympathy
\nMainly from thence.<\/p>\n
We\u2019ll one another treat like gods,
\nAnd all the faith we have
\nIn virtue and in truth, bestow
\nOn either, and suspicion leave
\nTo gods below.<\/p>\n
Two solitary stars\u2014
\nUnmeasured systems far
\nBetween us roll;
\nBut by our conscious light we are
\nDetermined to one pole.<\/p>\n
What need confound the sphere?\u2014
\nLove can afford to wait;
\nFor it no hour\u2019s too late
\nThat witnesseth one duty\u2019s end,
\nOr to another doth beginning lend.<\/p>\n
It will subserve no use,
\nMore than the tints of flowers;
\nOnly the independent guest
\nFrequents its bowers,
\nInherits its bequest.<\/p>\n
No speech, though kind, has it;
\nBut kinder silence doles
\nUnto its mates;
\nBy night consoles,
\nBy day congratulates.<\/p>\n
What saith the tongue to tongue?
\nWhat heareth ear of ear?
\nBy the decrees of fate
\nFrom year to year,
\nDoes it communicate.<\/p>\n
Pathless the gulf of feeling yawns;
\nNo trivial bridge of words,
\nOr arch of boldest span,
\nCan leap the moat that girds
\nThe sincere man.<\/p>\n
No show of bolts and bars
\nCan keep the foeman out,
\nOr \u2019scape his secret mine,
\nWho entered with the doubt
\nThat drew the line.<\/p>\n
No warder at the gate
\nCan let the friendly in;
\nBut, like the sun, o\u2019er all
\nHe will the castle win,
\nAnd shine along the wall.<\/p>\n
There\u2019s nothing in the world I know
\nThat can escape from love,
\nFor every depth it goes below,
\nAnd every height above.<\/p>\n
It waits, as waits the sky
\nUntil the clouds go by,
\nYet shines serenely on
\nWith an eternal day,
\nAlike when they are gone,
\nAnd when they stay.<\/p>\n
Implacable is Love,\u2014
\nFoes may be bought or teased
\nFrom their hostile intent,
\nBut he goes unappeased<\/p>\n
###<\/p>\n
Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862) was an American essayist, poet, philosopher, abolitionist, naturalist, tax resister, development critic, surveyor, historian, and leading transcendentalist. He is best known for his book Walden, a reflection upon simple living in natural surroundings, and his essay Civil Disobedience, an argument for disobedience to an unjust state.<\/p>\n
Thoreau was born in Concord, Massachusetts and graduated from Harvard University. He lived for two years, two months, and two days in a self-built cabin on Walden Pond, near Concord, and wrote his most famous work Walden during his time there. Thoreau was inspired by transcendentalism and emphasized the importance of nature and living simply. His writings on civil disobedience and protest against government policy would later influence many influential figures, including Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr.<\/p>\n
Although not initially popular, Thoreau’s works became influential and he is now regarded as one of the foremost American writers, both for the modern clarity of his prose style and the prescience of his views on nature and politics. Thoreau’s friend Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote of him “The scale on which his studies proceeded was so large as to require longevity, and a sort of eagle vision to survey the field … He was a protestant \u00e0 l\u2019outrance, and few lives contain so many renunciations.”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Friendship by Henry David Thoreau \u2018Friends, Romans, Countrymen, and Lovers.\u2019 Let such pure hate still underprop Our love, that we may be Each other\u2019s conscience, And have our sympathy Mainly from thence. We\u2019ll one another treat like gods, And all the faith we have In virtue and in truth, bestow On either, and suspicion leave…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":10143,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_uf_show_specific_survey":0,"_uf_disable_surveys":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[4,414],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10141","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-1800s","category-classic-poems"],"aioseo_notices":[],"amp_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10141","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=10141"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10141\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/10143"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=10141"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=10141"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=10141"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}