O nature do not aspire
To be the highest in thy quire
To be a meteor in the sky
Or comet that may range on high.
Only a zephyr that may blow
Among the reeds by the river low.
Give me thy most privy place
Where to run my airy race.
In some withdrawn unpublic mead
Let me sigh upon a reed,
Or in the woods with leafy din
Whisper the still evening in,
For I had rather be thy child
And pupil in the forest wild
Than to be king of men elsewhere
And most sovereign slave of care
To have one moment of thy dawn
Than share the city’s year forlorn.
Some still work give me to do
Only be it near to you.
pic by td-woodcut of Thoreau by Naoka Matsubara-which I own(35/100-signed).