But oh to understand the purpose of her heart,
Her princely, hidden life;
Just what or who unfolds the vital part,
Despite dark death and strife.
O Faunus tell—return to earth and speak
The word that satisfies;
Or haughty mountain give, or valley meek,
The answer to my cries.
The gods are silent all! But drink may I
Of Nature's founts o'er flowing;
I feel her throbs of heart in earth and sky,
And loving leads to knowing.
Henceforth, of all the wines of gods and men,
To me give Nature's nectar;
Of all the feeble songs of tongue and pen
From every dull director—
Oh give me Nature's rich and ripest lore,
Her palaces and poses;
Her peaceful ways and rest, her fullest store
Of pure Pierian roses.
Ah, this I know—'tis all I need to know—
The great Mother has her plan;
With God she labors long, at last to show
Her perfect child and man.
A NIGGER AND A MULE
I've lived in the city, I've sailed the wide sea;
I've studied in many and many a school;
I've sat at the feet of the bond and free,
And a lot has come to a fellow like me,
Since a new ground I plowed with a balky mule,
But I've lived to see balky and a nigger fool.
No deep-seated scorn of the African fool—
There's plenty like him from the hills to the sea;
'Tis the union of nigger and a stubborn mule,
That surpasses the sport of an all-round school,
If not for professor for fun-loving me,
And as long as I'm playful, my play shall be free.
Aye friend, 'tis a wonderful thing to be free,
Though many a free man I'd call a fool,
And no doubt some of them would thus entitle me,
Though tutored in the city, the college and the sea
Yet the nigger and hybrid, I'd take for a school;
For 'tis hard to beat a pure nigger and a mule.
