Author Ralph Waldo Emerson The gods walk in the breath of the woodsThey walk by the sounding pine,And fill the long reach of the old seashoreWith colloquy divineAnd the poet who overhearsEach random word they sayIs the prophet without peersWhom kings & lords obey. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments