nations, and are not subsidized. They proselyte, and are not proselyted. They assimilate other races to themselves, and are not assimilated. The English did not calculate the conquest of the Indies. It fell to their character. So they administer in different parts of the world, the codes of every empire and race; in Canada, old French law; in the Mauritius, the Code Napoleon; in the West Indies, the edicts of the Spanish Cortes; in the East Indies, the Laws of Menu; in the Isle of Man, of the Scandinavian Thing; at the Cape of Good Hope, of the old Netherlands; and in the Ionian Islands, the Pandects of Justinian.

DAYS.

DAUGHTERS of Time, the hypocritic days,
Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes,
And marching single in an endless file,
Bring diadems and fagots in their hands.

To each they offer gifts after his will,

Bread, kingdoms, stars, and sky that holds them all.

I, in my pleachéd garden, watched the pomp,

Forgot my morning wishes, hastily

Took a few herbs and apples, and the Day
Turned and departed silent. I, too late,
Under her solemn fillet saw the scorn.

CONCORD FIGHT.

Hymn Sung at the Completion of the Concord Monument, April 19,

1836.

By the rude bridge that arched the flood,

Their flag to April's breeze unfurled,

Here once the embattled farmers stood,

And fired the shot heard round the world.

The foe long since in silence slept;

Alike the conqueror silent sleeps;

And Time the ruined bridge has swept

Down the dark stream which seaward creeps.

On this green bank, by this soft stream,
We set to-day a votive stone;

That memory may their deed redeem,

When, like our sires, our sons are gone.

Spirit, that made those heroes dare
To die, and leave their children free,
Bid Time and Nature gently spare
The shaft we raise to them and Thee.

THE LAW OF LOVE

(From "To Rhea.")

WARNING to the blind and deaf,
"T is written on the iron leaf,
Who drinks of Cupid's nectar cup
Loveth downward, and not up;
He who loves, of gods and men,
Shall not by the same be loved again;
His sweetheart's idolatry

Falls, in turn, a new degree.
When a god is once beguiled

By beauty of a mortal child,

And by her radiant youth delighted,
He is not fooled, but warily knoweth
His love shall never be requited.
And thus the wise Immortal doeth.-
"T is his study and delight

To bless that creature day and night.
From all evils to defend her;
In her lap to pour all splendor;
To ransack earth for riches rare,
And fetch her stars to deck her hair:
He mixes music with her thoughts,
And saddens her with heavenly doubts:
All grace, all good his great heart knows
Profuse in love, the king bestows:
Saying, "Hearken! Earth, Sea, Air!

This monument of my despair

Build I to the All-Good, All-Fair.

Not for a private good,

But I, from my beatitude,

Albeit scorned as none was scorned,

Adorn her as was none adorned.

I make this maiden an ensample

To Nature, through her kingdoms ample, Whereby to model newer races,

Statelier forms, and fairer faces;
To carry man to new degrees
Of power, and of comeliness.
These presents be the hostages
Which I pawn for my release.
See to thyself, O Universe!
Thou art better, and not worse.'
And the god, having given all,
Is freed forever from his thrall.

GIVE ALL TO LOVE.

GIVE all to love;

Obey thy heart;

Friends, kindred, days,

Estate, good-fame,

Nothing refuse.

'T is a brave master;

One word more thy heart behoved,

One pulse more of firm endeavor,

Plans, credit, and the Muse,- Keep thee to-day,

To-morrow, forever,

Free as an Arab

Of thy beloved.

Cling with life to the maid;
But when the surprise,
First vague shadow of surmise
Flits across her bosom young
Of a joy apart from thee,
Free be she, fancy-free;
Nor thou detain her vesture's
hem,

Nor the palest rose she flung
From her summer diadem.

Though thou loved her as thyself,

As a self of purer clay,
Though her parting dims the
day,

Stealing grace from all alive:
Heartily know,
When half-gods go,
The gods arrive.

THE PINE TREE.

(From "Woodnotes II.")

What prizes the town and the tower?
Only what the pine tree yields;
Sinew that subdued the fields;

The wild-eyed boy who in the woods
Chants his hymn to hills and floods,
Whom the city's poisoning spleen
Made not pale, or fat, or lean;
Whose iron arms and iron mould
Know not fear, fatigue, or cold.
I give my rafters to his boat,
My billets to his boiler's throat;
And I will swim the ancient sea,

To float my child to victory,

And grant to dwellers with the pine
Dominion o'er the palm and vine.

Who leaves the pine-tree leaves his friend,
Unnerves his strength, invites his end.
Cut a bough from my parent stem,
And dip it in thy porcelain vase;

A little while each russet gem

Will swell and rise with wonted grace;

But when it seeks enlarged supplies,
The orphan of the forest dies.

Whoso walks in solitude,

And inhabiteth the wood,

Choosing light, wave, rock, and bird,

Before the money-loving herd,

Into that forester shall pass

From these companions, power and grace;

Clean shall he be, without, within,

From the old adhering sin,

All ill dissolving in the light

Of his triumphant piercing sight.

Not vain, sour, nor frivolous;

Not mad, athirst, nor garrulous;

Grave, chaste, contented, though retired, And of all other men desired.

On him the light of star and moon
Shall fall with purer radiance down:
All constellations of the sky

Shed their virtue through his eye.
Him Nature giveth for defence
His formidable innocence;

The mountain sap, the shells, the sea,
All spheres, all stones, his helpers be;
He shall never be old;

Nor his fate shall be foretold;
He shall meet the speeding year,
Without wailing, without fear;
He shall be happy in his love,
Like to like shall joyful prove;
He shall be happy whilst he wooes
Muse-born, a daughter of the Muse.

THE DAY'S RATION.

WHEN I was born,

From all the seas of strength Fate filled a chalicc,
Saying, "This be thy portion, child; this chalice,
Less than a lily's, thou shalt daily draw

From my great arteries,-nor less, nor more."
All substance the cunning chemist Time
Melts down into that liquor of my life,--

Friends, foes, joys, fortunes, beauty, and disgust.
And whether I am angry or content,
Indebted or insulted, loved or hurt,
All he distils into sidereal wine

And brims my little cup; heedless, alas!
Of all he sheds how little it will hold,

How much runs over on the desert sands.

To-day, when friends approach and every hour
Brings book, or star-bright scroll of genius,

The little cup will hold not a bead more,
And all the costly liquor runs to waste;

Nor gives the jealous lord one diamond drop

So to be husbanded for poorer days.

[The foregoing selections are from Emerson's "Selected Poems." They are used by special permission of, and special arrangement with the authorized publishers, Houghton, Mifflin & Co.]