Books with title Poems of Nature: Poems

The collection contains a a selection of Henry David Thoreau's 50 most captivating and thought-provoking poems. Most of Thoreauss poems were composed early in his life, before his twenty-sixth year, ‘Just now’ he wrote in the autumn of 1841, ‘I am in the mid-sea of verses, and they actually rustle round me, as the leaves would round the head of Autumnus himself, should he thrust it up through some vales which I know; but, alas! many of them are but crisped and yellow leaves like his, I fear, and will deserve no better fate than to make mould for new harvests.’After 1843 he seems to have written but few poems, and had destroyed perhaps as many as he had retained, because they did not meet the exacting requirements of his friend Emerson, upon whose opinion at that time he placed great reliance. This loss was regretted by Thoreau in after years, when the poetical habit had left him, for he fancied that some of the verses were better than his friend had supposed.

Poems of Nature by Henry David Thoreau is a collection of classic nature poems by the great American poet and philosopher. Most of Thoreau's poems were composed early in his life, before his twenty-sixth year. 'Just now, ' he wrote in the autumn of 1841, 'I am in the mid-sea of verses, and they actually rustle round me, as the leaves would round the head of Autumnus himself, should he thrust it up through some vales which I know; but, alas! many of them are but crisped and yellow leaves like his, I fear, and will deserve no better fate than to make mould for new harvests.'

The fifty poems here brought together under the title ‘Poems of Nature’ are perhaps two-thirds of those which Thoreau preserved. Many of them were printed by him, in whole or in part, among his early contributions to Emerson’s Dial, or in his own two volumes, The Week and Walden, which were all that were issued in his lifetime. Others were given to Mr. Sanborn for publication, by Sophia Thoreau, the year after her brother’s death (several appeared in the Boston Commonwealth in 1863); or have been furnished from time to time by Mr. Blake, his literary executor. Most of Thoreau’s poems were composed early in his life, before his twenty-sixth year, ‘Just now’ he wrote in the autumn of 1841, ‘I am in the mid-sea of verses, and they actually rustle round me, as the leaves would round the head of Autumnus himself, should he thrust it up through some vales which I know; but, alas! many of them are but crisped and yellow leaves like his, I fear, and will deserve no better fate than to make mould for new harvests.’ After 1843 he seems to have written but few poems, and had destroyed perhaps as many as he had retained, because they did not meet the exacting requirements of his friend Emerson, upon whose opinion at that time he placed great reliance. This loss was regretted by Thoreau in after years, when the poetical habit had left him, for he fancied that some of the verses were better than his friend had supposed. But Emerson, who seldom changed his mind, adhered to his verdict, and while praising some of the poems highly, perhaps extravagantly, would admit but a small number of them to the slight selection which he appended to the posthumous edition of Thoreau’s Letters, edited by him in 1865; and even these were printed, in some instances, in an abbreviated and imperfect form. A few other poems, with some translations from the Greek, have lately been included by Thoreau’s Boston publishers in their volume of Miscellanies (vol. x. of the Riverside Edition, 1894). But no collection so full as the present one has ever been offered to the public. It has not been attempted to make this a complete collection of Thoreau’s poems, because, as has been well said, ‘many of them seem to be merely pendants to his prose discourse, dropped in as forcible epigrams where they are brief, and in other instances made ancillary to the idea just expressed, or to perpetuate a distinct conception that has some vital connection with the point from which it was poured forth. It is, therefore, almost an injustice to treat them separately at all.’ After the discontinuance ofThe Dial, Thoreau ceased to publish his verses as separate poems, but interpolated them, in the manner described, in his prose essays, where they form a sort of accompaniment to the thought, and from which it is in many cases impossible to detach them. That he himself set some value on them in this connection may be gathered from a sentence in the last of his published letters, in which he writes to a correspondent: ‘I am pleased when you say that in The Week you like especially those little snatches of poetry interspersed through the book, for these I suppose are the least attractive to most readers.’

The fifty poems here brought together under the title ‘Poems of Nature’ are perhaps two-thirds of those which Thoreau preserved. Many of them were printed by him, in whole or in part, among his early contributions to Emerson’s Dial, or in his own two volumes, The Week and Walden, which were all that were issued in his lifetime. Others were given to Mr. Sanborn for publication, by Sophia Thoreau, the year after her brother’s death (several appeared in the Boston Commonwealth in 1863); or have been furnished from time to time by Mr. Blake, his literary executor.Nor should it be forgotten that Thoreau was always regarded as a poet by those who were associated with him. ‘Poet-Naturalist’ was the suggestive title which Ellery Channing applied to him; and Hawthorne remarked that ‘his thoughts seem to measure and attune themselves into spontaneous verse, as they rightfully may, since there is real poetry in them.’ Even Emerson’s final estimate was far from unappreciative. ‘His poetry,’ he wrote in his biographical sketch, ‘might be bad or good; he no doubt wanted a lyric facility and technical skill, but hehad the source of poetry in his spiritual perception. His own verses are often rude and defective. The gold does not yet run pure—is drossy and crude. The thyme and marjoram are not yet honey. But if he want lyric fineness and technical merits, if he have not the poetic temperament, he never lacks the causal thought, showing that his genius was better than his talent.’Such qualities dignify life and make the expression of it memorable, not perhaps immediately, to the multitude of readers, but at first to an appreciative few, and eventually to a wide circle of mankind.

Henry David Thoreau was an American essayist, poet, and philosopher.A leading transcendentalist,he is best known for his book Walden, a reflection upon simple living in natural surroundings, and his essay "Civil Disobedience" (originally published as "Resistance to Civil Government"), an argument for disobedience to an unjust state.The fifty poems here brought together under the title ‘Poems of Nature’are perhaps two-thirds of those which Thoreau preserved. Many of themwere printed by him, in whole or in part, among his early contributionsto Emerson’s Dial, or in his own two volumes, The Week and Walden,which were all that were issued in his lifetime. Others were given toMr. Sanborn for publication, by Sophia Thoreau, the year after herbrother’s death (several appeared in the Boston Commonwealth _in 1863);or have been furnished from time to time by Mr. Blake, his literaryexecutor.Most of Thoreau’s poems were composed early in his life, before histwenty-sixth year, ‘Just now’ he wrote in the autumn of 1841, ‘I am inthe mid-sea of verses, and they actually rustle round me, as the leaveswould round the head of Autumnus himself, should he thrust it upthrough some vales which I know; but, alas! many of them are but crispedand yellow leaves like his, I fear, and will deserve no better fate thanto make mould for new harvests.’ After 1843 he seems to have written butfew poems, and had destroyed perhaps as many as he had retained, becausethey did not meet the exacting requirements of his friend Emerson, uponwhose opinion at that time he placed great reliance. This loss wasregretted by Thoreau in after years, when the poetical habit had left him, for he fancied that some of the verses were better than his friendhad supposed. But Emerson, who seldom changed his mind, adhered to hisverdict, and while praising some of the poems highly, perhapsextravagantly, would admit but a small number of them to the slightselection which he appended to the posthumous edition of Thoreau’s_Letters, _edited by him in 1865; and even these were printed, in someinstances, in an abbreviated and imperfect form.A few other In the present selection a return has been made, wherever possible,from the emendations introduced by Thoreau’s editors to the originaltext.) poems, with some translations from the Greek, have lately been includedby Thoreau’s Boston publishers in their volume of Miscellanies (vol.x. of the Riverside Edition, 1894).But no collection so full as thepresent one has ever been offered to the public.It has not been attempted to make this a complete collection ofThoreau’s poems, because, as has been well said, ‘many of them seem tobe merely pendants to his prose discourse, dropped in as forcibleepigrams where they are brief, and in other instances made ancillary tothe idea just expressed, or to perpetuate a distinct conception that hassome vital connection with the point from which it was poured forth. Itis, therefore, almost an injustice to treat them separately at all.’After the discontinuance of The Dial, Thoreau ceased to publish hisverses as separate poems, but interpolated them, in the manner described, in his prose essays, where they form a sort of accompanimentto the thought, and from which it is in many cases impossible to detachthem. That he himself set some value on them in this connection may begathered from a sentence in the last of his published letters, in whichhe writes to a correspondent: ‘I am pleased when you say that in TheWeek you like especially those little snatches of poetry interspersedthrough the book, for these I suppose are the least attractive to mostreaders.’READ MORE BY PURCHASE THIS BOOK.THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT.

The fifty poems here brought together under the title ‘Poems of Nature’ are perhaps two-thirds of those which Thoreau preserved. Many of them were printed by him, in whole or in part, among his early contributions to Emerson’s Dial, or in his own two volumes, The Week and Walden, which were all that were issued in his lifetime. Others were given to Mr. Sanborn for publication, by Sophia Thoreau, the year after her brother’s death (several appeared in the Boston Commonwealth in 1863); or have been furnished from time to time by Mr. Blake, his literary executor.Most of Thoreau’s poems were composed early in his life, before his twenty-sixth year, ‘Just now’ he wrote in the autumn of 1841, ‘I am in the mid-sea of verses, and they actually rustle round me, as the leaves would round the head of Autumnus himself, should he thrust it up through some vales which I know; but, alas! many of them are but crisped and yellow leaves like his, I fear, and will deserve no better fate than to make mould for new harvests.’ After 1843 he seems to have written but few poems, and had destroyed perhaps as many as he had retained, because they did not meet the exacting requirements of his friend Emerson, upon whose opinion at that time he placed great reliance. This loss was regretted by Thoreau in after years, when the poetical habit had left him, for he fancied that some of the verses were better than his friend had supposed.

Poetry is the perfect way to capture the wonders of the natural world. Readers of this engaging collection will explore the beauty of nature and language through pieces by a variety of poets. They'll learn about literary and poetic devices along the way, making this a useful addition to any language arts curriculum. Even reluctant readers will enjoy the humor and thought-provoking language of these charming poems. Stunning illustrations support the poems and captivate readers. This fun and accessible introduction to poetry will be a popular addition to any library or classroom.

The fifty poems here brought together under the title ‘Poems of Nature’ are perhaps two-thirds of those which Thoreau preserved. Many of them were printed by him, in whole or in part, among his early contributions to Emerson’s Dial, or in his own two volumes, The Week and Walden, which were all that were issued in his lifetime. Others were given to Mr. Sanborn for publication, by Sophia Thoreau, the year after her brother’s death (several appeared in the Boston Commonwealth in 1863); or have been furnished from time to time by Mr. Blake, his literary executor. Most of Thoreau’s poems were composed early in his life, before his twenty-sixth year, ‘Just now’ he wrote in the autumn of 1841, ‘I am in the mid-sea of verses, and they actually rustle round me, as the leaves would round the head of Autumnus himself, should he thrust it up through some vales which I know; but, alas! many of them are but crisped and yellow leaves like his, I fear, and will deserve no better fate than to make mould for new harvests.’ After 1843 he seems to have written but few poems, and had destroyed perhaps as many as he had retained, because they did not meet the exacting requirements of his friend Emerson, upon whose opinion at that time he placed great reliance. This loss was regretted by Thoreau in after years, when the poetical habit had left him, for he fancied that some of the verses were better than his friend had supposed. But Emerson, who seldom changed his mind, adhered to his verdict, and while praising some of the poems highly, perhaps extravagantly, would admit but a small number of them to the slight selection which he appended to the posthumous edition of Thoreau’s Letters, edited by him in 1865; and even these were printed, in some instances, in an abbreviated and imperfect form. A few other poems, with some translations from the Greek, have lately been included by Thoreau’s Boston publishers in their volume of Miscellanies (vol. x. of the Riverside Edition, 1894). But no collection so full as the present one has ever been offered to the public. It has not been attempted to make this a complete collection of Thoreau’s poems, because, as has been well said, ‘many of them seem to be merely pendants to his prose discourse, dropped in as forcible epigrams where they are brief, and in other instances made ancillary to the idea just expressed, or to perpetuate a distinct conception that has some vital connection with the point from which it was poured forth. It is, therefore, almost an injustice to treat them separately at all.’ After the discontinuance ofThe Dial, Thoreau ceased to publish his verses as separate poems, but interpolated them, in the manner described, in his prose essays, where they form a sort of accompaniment to the thought, and from which it is in many cases impossible to detach them. That he himself set some value on them in this connection may be gathered from a sentence in the last of his published letters, in which he writes to a correspondent: ‘I am pleased when you say that in The Week you like especially those little snatches of poetry interspersed through the book, for these I suppose are the least attractive to most readers.’

Poetry is the perfect way to capture the wonders of the natural world. Readers of this engaging collection will explore the beauty of nature and language through pieces by a variety of poets. They'll learn about literary and poetic devices along the way, making this a useful addition to any language arts curriculum. Even reluctant readers will enjoy the humor and thought-provoking language of these charming poems. Stunning illustrations support the poems and captivate readers. This fun and accessible introduction to poetry will be a popular addition to any library or classroom.