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Poems Every Child Should Know

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<h3>The Problem.</h3> <div class="pre_poem">"The Problem" (by Ralph Waldo Emerson, 1803-80) is quoted from one end of the world to the other. Emerson teaches one lesson above all others, that each soul must work out for itself its latent force, its own individual expression, and that with a "sad sincerity." "The bishop of the soul" can do no more. </div> <table class="poem" summary="poem"><tr><td><div class="stanza"> I like a church; I like a cowl; I love a prophet of the soul; And on my heart monastic aisles Fall like sweet strains, or pensive smiles: Yet not for all his faith can see Would I that cowlèd churchman be. Why should the vest on him allure, Which I could not on me endure? </div> <div class="stanza"> Not from a vain or shallow thought His awful Jove young Phidias brought; Never from lips of cunning fell The thrilling Delphic oracle; Out from the heart of nature rolled The burdens of the Bible old; The litanies of nations came, Like the volcano's tongue of flame, Up from the burning core below,— The canticles of love and woe: The hand that rounded Peter's dome And groined the aisles of Christian Rome Wrought in a sad sincerity; Himself from God he could not free; He builded better than he knew; The conscious stone to beauty grew. </div> <div class="stanza"> Knowst thou what wove yon woodbird's nest Of leaves and feathers from her breast? Or how the fish outbuilt her shell, Painting with morn each annual cell? Or how the sacred pine-tree adds To her old leaves new myriads? Such and so grew these holy piles, While love and terror laid the tiles. Earth proudly wears the Parthenon, As the best gem upon her zone, And Morning opes with haste her lids To gaze upon the Pyramids; O'er England's abbeys bends the sky, As on its friends, with kindred eye; For out of Thought's interior sphere These wonders rose to upper air; And Nature gladly gave them place, Adopted them into her race, And granted them an equal date With Andes and with Ararat. </div> <div class="stanza"> These temples grew as grows the grass; Art might obey, but not surpass. The passive Master lent his hand To the vast soul that o'er him planned; And the same power that reared the shrine Bestrode the tribes that knelt within. Ever the fiery Pentecost Girds with one flame the countless host, Trances the heart through chanting choirs, And through the priest the mind inspires. The word unto the prophet spoken Was writ on tables yet unbroken; The word by seers or sibyls told, <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's note: Original had a page break here: a stanza break may not have been intended.">In groves of oak, or fanes of gold.</ins> </div> <div class="stanza"> Still floats upon the morning wind, Still whispers to the willing mind. One accent of the Holy Ghost The heedless world hath never lost. I know what say the fathers wise,— The Book itself before me lies, Old Chrysostom, best Augustine, And he who blent both in his line, The younger Golden Lips or mines, Taylor, the Shakespeare of divines. His words are music in my ear, I see his cowlèd portrait dear; And yet, for all his faith could see, I would not the good bishop be. </div> </td></tr></table> Ralph Waldo Emerson. <h3>To America.</h3> <div class="pre_poem">"To America," included by permission of the Poet Laureate, is a good poem and a great poem. It is a keen thrust at the common practice of teaching American children to hate the English of these days on account of the actions of a silly old king dead a hundred years. Alfred Austin deserves great credit for this poem. </div> <table class="poem" summary="poem"><tr><td><div class="stanza"> What is the voice I hear On the winds of the western sea? Sentinel, listen from out Cape Clear And say what the voice may be. 'Tis a proud free people calling loud to a people proud and free. </div> <div class="stanza"> And it says to them: "Kinsmen, hail! We severed have been too long. Now let us have done with a worn-out tale— The tale of an ancient wrong— And our friendship last long as our love doth and be stronger than death is strong." </div> <div class="stanza"> Answer them, sons of the self-same race, And blood of the self-same clan; Let us speak with each other face to face And answer as man to man, And loyally love and trust each other as none but free men can. </div> <div class="stanza"> Now fling them out to the breeze, Shamrock, Thistle, and Rose, And the Star-spangled Banner unfurl with these— A message to friends and foes Wherever the sails of peace are seen and wherever the war-wind blows— </div> <div class="stanza"> A message to bond and thrall to wake, For wherever we come, we twain, The throne of the tyrant shall rock and quake, And his menace be void and vain; For you are lords of a strong land and we are lords of the main. </div> <div class="stanza"> Yes, this is the voice of the bluff March gale; We severed have been too long, But now we have done with a worn-out tale— The tale of an ancient wrong— And our friendship last long as love doth last and stronger than death is strong. </div> </td></tr></table> Alfred Austin. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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