Classic Poem

I know that Nature is part of Eternity,
And I, a part of Nature.
I know that I am one with Beauty,
And my brother is one.
All are Nature's experiments
Toward a harmony we do not understand.
We sound our tone
In the everlasting tune;
Oaks and mosses, thrushes and tree-toads,
Man and the cunningly designed insects,
Which will defeat us if we deny the Nature they obey.
All one — each from its own seed,
Helplessly pushed toward its own destiny.
Nature has given me to dive into
The depths of the sky;
To catch the pulsing tread of the stars
When, through their bright recessional,
We commune together.
I know that life endures no longer than
The breaking of a bubble,
Yet I have made it bitter for my brothers,
And they have made it bitter for me.
I understand the gossip of trees in Summer;
The adoration of birds,
And the acquiescence of my enemies the insects.
Wind and Sea speak to me.
Their interrogation is one.
The low-muttered music of the rivers
Sounds to me as if the forgotten dead
Were striving to talk to the living;
Dumbly murmuring in sobbing cadences
The universal unity that we are one
With each other and with the crystals
Threaded on the twigs after rain;
The spear of grass tipped with dew,
And the ant which climbs the blade
To sip at the fleeting fountain.
One with the bright-winged butterfly
New-lighted on a rose,
Slowly waving its wings of marvel.
One with the fragrant peach which indolently sleeps
On its cradling stem amid the lance-headed
Peach-leaves, seducing the air with aromatic passion.
One with the rains which move so stately
Out of the hills and march across the valleys,
Benevolent invaders;
Or the snow of perfect whiteness,
Covering and protecting;
Like a fond nurse above her sleeping babe,
Saying, " Hush. "
One with the grass, whose gentle fingers
Weave so gracious a coverlet for our repose.
The mountains, which stand afar off,
And the great forests,
Sanctuaries of the gods, solemn and silent;
Where the Centuries are sleeping.
And the teeming ocean full of creatures;
Countless, mysterious, marvelous;
They are all a part of me as I of them.
It is good to believe that I and all of these
Are of a unity with the white sheep,
Bleating soft and querulous upon the hillside;
The proud stallions with their swift-hoofed harems;
The thunder-voiced kine in the green meadows,
Or standing knee-deep in the marshes;
My loving dog who regards me insistently
With faithful eyes; and the soft-furred cat
Whirring the mysterious wheel of her content
Upon my shoulder.
It is good to lie beneath the stars and hear
The small voices of the night,
Nearer to me than the stars and dearer.
I know that I am one with these, and more,
And my brothers are one with them, and more;
And these, and more, are one with me and my brothers.
We are a universal whole.