Journals of Ralph Waldo Emerson: With Annotations, Volume 1

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Houghton Mifflin, 1909
Designed by Bruce Rogers. 1. 1820-1824 -- 2. 1824-1832 -- 3. 1833-1835 -- 4. 1836-1838 -- 5. 1838-1841 -- 6. 1841-1844 -- 7. 1845-1848 -- 8. 1849-1855 -- 9. 1856-1863 -- 10. 1864-1876.
 

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Page 214 - Inhospitable appear, and desolate, Nor knowing us, nor known ; and if by prayer Incessant I could hope to change the will Of him who all things can, I would not cease To weary him with my assiduous cries. But prayer against his absolute decree No more avails than breath against the wind, Blown stifling back on him that breathes it forth : Therefore to his great bidding I submit.
Page 111 - Our young people are diseased with the theological problems of original sin, origin of evil, predestination and the like. These never presented a practical difficulty to any man, — never darkened across any man's road who did not go out of his way to seek them. These are the soul's mumps and measles and whooping-coughs...
Page 346 - I've been tossed like the driven foam; But now, proud world ! I'm going home. Good-bye to Flattery's fawning face; To Grandeur with his wise grimace; To upstart Wealth's averted eye ; To supple Office, low and high ; To crowded halls, to court and street ; To frozen hearts and hasting feet; To those who go, and those who come ; Good-bye, proud world ! I'm going home.
Page 186 - But in these cases We still have judgment here; that we but teach Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return To plague the inventor; this even-handed justice Commends the ingredients of our poisoned chalice To our own lips.
Page 193 - O, it is excellent To have a giant's strength ; but it is tyrannous To use it like a giant.
Page 366 - I'm going home. I am going to my own hearth-stone, Bosomed in yon green hills alone, - — A secret nook in a pleasant land, Whose groves the frolic fairies planned; Where arches green, the livelong day, Echo the blackbird's roundelay, And vulgar feet have never trod A spot that is sacred to thought and God.
Page 345 - Turned inward, — to examine of what stuff Time's fetters are composed ; and life was put To inquisition, long and profitless ! By pain of heart — now checked — and now impelled — The intellectual power, through words and things, Went sounding on, a dim and perilous way...
Page 366 - I laugh at the lore and the pride of man, At the sophist schools, and the learned clan; For what are they all, in their high conceit, When man in the bush with God may meet?
Page xviii - It is time to be old, To take in sail: — The god of bounds, Who sets to seas a shore, Came to me in his fatal rounds, And said: 'No more! No farther shoot Thy broad ambitious branches, and thy root. Fancy departs: no more invent; Contract thy firmament To compass of a tent.
Page 123 - The wheel of fortune guide you, The boy with the bow beside you; Run aye in the way, Till the bird of day, And the luckier lot betide you 1 Capt.

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