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Poems
Ralph Waldo Emerson is one of the best-loved figures in nineteenth-century American literature. Though he earned his central place in our culture as an essayist and philosopher, since his death his reputation as a poet has grown as well.
Known for challenging traditional thought and for his faith in the individual, Emerson was the chief spokesman for the Transcendentalist movement. His poems speak to his most passionately held belief: that external authority should be disregarded in favor of one’s own experience. From the embattled farmers who “fired the shot heard round the world” in the stirring “Concord Hymn,” to the flower in “The Rhodora,” whose existence demonstrates “that if eyes were made for seeing, / Then Beauty is its own excuse for being,” Emerson celebrates the existence of the sublime in the human and in nature.
Combining intensity of feeling with his famous idealism, Emerson’s poems reveal a moving, more intimate side of the man revered as the Sage of Concord.
Known for challenging traditional thought and for his faith in the individual, Emerson was the chief spokesman for the Transcendentalist movement. His poems speak to his most passionately held belief: that external authority should be disregarded in favor of one’s own experience. From the embattled farmers who “fired the shot heard round the world” in the stirring “Concord Hymn,” to the flower in “The Rhodora,” whose existence demonstrates “that if eyes were made for seeing, / Then Beauty is its own excuse for being,” Emerson celebrates the existence of the sublime in the human and in nature.
Combining intensity of feeling with his famous idealism, Emerson’s poems reveal a moving, more intimate side of the man revered as the Sage of Concord.
Hardcover
Published September 30, 2004
About the author
Ralph Waldo Emerson
3,563 books5,434 followersRalph Waldo Emerson was born in Boston in 1803. Educated at Harvard and the Cambridge Divinity School, he became a Unitarian minister in 1826 at the Second Church Unitarian. The congregation, with Christian overtones, issued communion, something Emerson refused to do. "Really, it is beyond my comprehension," Emerson once said, when asked by a seminary professor whether he believed in God. (Quoted in 2,000 Years of Freethought edited by Jim Haught.) By 1832, after the untimely death of his first wife, Emerson cut loose from Unitarianism. During a year-long trip to Europe, Emerson became acquainted with such intelligentsia as British writer Thomas Carlyle, and poets Wordsworth and Coleridge. He returned to the United States in 1833, to a life as poet, writer and lecturer. Emerson inspired Transcendentalism, although never adopting the label himself. He rejected traditional ideas of deity in favor of an "Over-Soul" or "Form of Good," ideas which were considered highly heretical. His books include Nature (1836), The American Scholar (1837), Divinity School Address (1838), Essays, 2 vol. (1841, 1844), Nature, Addresses and Lectures (1849), and three volumes of poetry. Margaret Fuller became one of his "disciples," as did Henry David Thoreau.
The best of Emerson's rather wordy writing survives as epigrams, such as the famous: "A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines." Other one- (and two-) liners include: "As men's prayers are a disease of the will, so are their creeds a disease of the intellect" (Self-Reliance, 1841). "The most tedious of all discourses are on the subject of the Supreme Being" (Journal, 1836). "The word miracle, as pronounced by Christian churches, gives a false impression; it is a monster. It is not one with the blowing clover and the falling rain" (Address to Harvard Divinity College, July 15, 1838). He demolished the right wing hypocrites of his era in his essay "Worship": ". . . the louder he talked of his honor, the faster we counted our spoons" (Conduct of Life, 1860). "I hate this shallow Americanism which hopes to get rich by credit, to get knowledge by raps on midnight tables, to learn the economy of the mind by phrenology, or skill without study, or mastery without apprenticeship" (Self-Reliance). "The first and last lesson of religion is, 'The things that are seen are temporal; the things that are not seen are eternal.' It puts an affront upon nature" (English Traits , 1856). "The god of the cannibals will be a cannibal, of the crusaders a crusader, and of the merchants a merchant." (Civilization, 1862). He influenced generations of Americans, from his friend Henry David Thoreau to John Dewey, and in Europe, Friedrich Nietzsche, who takes up such Emersonian themes as power, fate, the uses of poetry and history, and the critique of Christianity. D. 1882.
Ralph Waldo Emerson was his son and Waldo Emerson Forbes, his grandson.
The best of Emerson's rather wordy writing survives as epigrams, such as the famous: "A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines." Other one- (and two-) liners include: "As men's prayers are a disease of the will, so are their creeds a disease of the intellect" (Self-Reliance, 1841). "The most tedious of all discourses are on the subject of the Supreme Being" (Journal, 1836). "The word miracle, as pronounced by Christian churches, gives a false impression; it is a monster. It is not one with the blowing clover and the falling rain" (Address to Harvard Divinity College, July 15, 1838). He demolished the right wing hypocrites of his era in his essay "Worship": ". . . the louder he talked of his honor, the faster we counted our spoons" (Conduct of Life, 1860). "I hate this shallow Americanism which hopes to get rich by credit, to get knowledge by raps on midnight tables, to learn the economy of the mind by phrenology, or skill without study, or mastery without apprenticeship" (Self-Reliance). "The first and last lesson of religion is, 'The things that are seen are temporal; the things that are not seen are eternal.' It puts an affront upon nature" (English Traits , 1856). "The god of the cannibals will be a cannibal, of the crusaders a crusader, and of the merchants a merchant." (Civilization, 1862). He influenced generations of Americans, from his friend Henry David Thoreau to John Dewey, and in Europe, Friedrich Nietzsche, who takes up such Emersonian themes as power, fate, the uses of poetry and history, and the critique of Christianity. D. 1882.
Ralph Waldo Emerson was his son and Waldo Emerson Forbes, his grandson.
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Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews
May 29, 2017
"Give me truths;
For I am weary of the surfaces."
Ralph Waldo Emerson was a writer, an essayist, a naturalist, an abolitionist, a preacher, a philosopher, and a poet. He was so many things, but above all else, he was a truth seeker. He delved into all aspects of humanity and sought to understand the workings of the universe, the human mind and the soul. Ultimately he wanted to determine how we can live better, more positive lives.
He led the nineteenth century nature-inspired Transcendentalist movement, a spiritual movement divorced of dogma and religion. He believed one could find God only in nature and in one self. He wrote about the Over Soul, the universal ONE force that connects us all, and how divinity is within. For these ideas, some called him a prophet, others an infidel. No doubt, he stirred things up and his ideas were controversial at the time.
This book of poetry is a gem because it shows us Emerson's more lyrical and intimate side. We know him for his essays and speeches, but few know he was a remarkable poet. This Everyman Pocket edition with its beautiful cover of trees is a nice reminder to turn to nature and the soul.
Included in this book of poetry is also an excerpt from his famous essay The Poet. "For all men live by truth, and stand in need of expression," he writes. "In love, in art, in avarice, in politics, in labor, in games, we study to utter our painful secret. The man is only half himself, the other half is his expression."
For those who love nature poetry I wholeheartedly recommend this book and edition.
For I am weary of the surfaces."
Ralph Waldo Emerson was a writer, an essayist, a naturalist, an abolitionist, a preacher, a philosopher, and a poet. He was so many things, but above all else, he was a truth seeker. He delved into all aspects of humanity and sought to understand the workings of the universe, the human mind and the soul. Ultimately he wanted to determine how we can live better, more positive lives.
He led the nineteenth century nature-inspired Transcendentalist movement, a spiritual movement divorced of dogma and religion. He believed one could find God only in nature and in one self. He wrote about the Over Soul, the universal ONE force that connects us all, and how divinity is within. For these ideas, some called him a prophet, others an infidel. No doubt, he stirred things up and his ideas were controversial at the time.
This book of poetry is a gem because it shows us Emerson's more lyrical and intimate side. We know him for his essays and speeches, but few know he was a remarkable poet. This Everyman Pocket edition with its beautiful cover of trees is a nice reminder to turn to nature and the soul.
Included in this book of poetry is also an excerpt from his famous essay The Poet. "For all men live by truth, and stand in need of expression," he writes. "In love, in art, in avarice, in politics, in labor, in games, we study to utter our painful secret. The man is only half himself, the other half is his expression."
For those who love nature poetry I wholeheartedly recommend this book and edition.
November 18, 2025
“A beauty not explicable is dearer than a beauty which we can see to the end of.”
I like to be reminded of this to calm my desire To Know.
So much beauty in this little volume of thoughts and ideas.
I like to be reminded of this to calm my desire To Know.
So much beauty in this little volume of thoughts and ideas.
December 20, 2015
A nice collection, beginning with the surprising "Rhodora": Beauty needs no excuse!
September 26, 2016
A great selection of Emerson's work. I will be picking this book of poems up in the years to come to reread. A compact book that i found easy to carry along with me wherever i went.
October 22, 2020
Some poems in the collection are to be treasured as eternal gems, some inspiring, and some to drag through. The poetry of Ralph Waldo Emerson is dedicated to finding merit in everything, in realizing what things mean to us, is to have an individual world-view in which we explain the world in. In this department, his poetry reigns supreme.
January 24, 2023
Emerson is brilliant. Of the longer poems, The Adirondacks was my favorite, while it was hard for me to relate to May-Day. The short poems are sometimes challenging, sometimes accessible, often addressing themes of nature, American history, art, love, and idealism.
June 30, 2021
I quite liked the style, format, and subject matter of these poems. Although not every poem in this collection was a winner (for me, personally), I will likely check out more Emerson poetry.
November 11, 2024
Dense and clever, artfully crafted poetry that I found to be really enriching and enjoyable.
May 28, 2020
I'm obviously a massive fan of Ralph Waldo Emerson. Obviously because he's just a general all round legend and why would anyone not be a fan of him. But i really think his literature is better than his poetry . Anyway here is some of the best bits:
The earth , it's a place of sorrow. Scanty joys are here below. Who is nothing has no sorrow
Out of sleeping awaking, out of waking asleep, life death overtaking, deep underneath deep?
The baby by its mother , lies bathed in joy, calls itself uncounted, the sun is its toy. Shines the piece of all beings, without cloud in its eyes, and the some of the worlds , in soft miniature lies. But man crouches and blushes, absconds and conceals. He creepeth and peeps, he palters and steals. Infirm, melancholy, jealous glancing around, an accomplice, he poisons the ground.
Warning to the blind and deaf, it's written on iron leaf, who drinks of cupids nectar Cup, loveth downward and not up. Therefore, who loves, of gods or men, shall not by the same be loved again.
A Ruddy drop of manly blood
The surging sea outweighs
The world uncertain comes and goes
The lover rooted stays.
I fancied he was fled,
And after many a year,
Glowed unexhausted kindliness,
Like daily sunrise there.
My careful heart was free again,
Oh friend, my bosom said,
Through the alone the Sky is arched,
Through the rose is red.
All things through thee take nobler form
And look beyond the earth
the mill round of our fates appears
A sun path in they worth.
Me to thy nobleness is taught
To master my despair
The fountains of my hidden life,
Are through thy friendship fair.
Love on his errand bound to go
Can swim the flood, and Wade through snow.
Where way is none it will creep and wind
And eat through Alps it's home to find.
How strange strange strange
The dualism of man
That he can enlist
But half his being in his act
do that which you can do
The world will feel its need of you
how many big events to shake the earth
Lie packed in silence waiting for their birth.
Pail genius roves alone
No scouts contract his way
None credits him till he has shown
His diamonds to the day
All things rehearse
The meaning of the universe.
By virtue of his science the poet is the namer or language maker, naming things sometimes after their appearance, sometimes after their essence and giving to everyone its own name and not in others, thereby rejoicing the intellect which delights in detachment or boundary.
The poet knows what he speaks adequately then only when he speaks somewhat wildly or with the Flowers of the mind: not with the in selects, used as an organ but with the intellect released from all service, and suffered to take its direction from its celestial life. Or as the agents were wants to express themselves, not with intellect alone, but with the intellect inebriated by nectar.
The earth , it's a place of sorrow. Scanty joys are here below. Who is nothing has no sorrow
Out of sleeping awaking, out of waking asleep, life death overtaking, deep underneath deep?
The baby by its mother , lies bathed in joy, calls itself uncounted, the sun is its toy. Shines the piece of all beings, without cloud in its eyes, and the some of the worlds , in soft miniature lies. But man crouches and blushes, absconds and conceals. He creepeth and peeps, he palters and steals. Infirm, melancholy, jealous glancing around, an accomplice, he poisons the ground.
Warning to the blind and deaf, it's written on iron leaf, who drinks of cupids nectar Cup, loveth downward and not up. Therefore, who loves, of gods or men, shall not by the same be loved again.
A Ruddy drop of manly blood
The surging sea outweighs
The world uncertain comes and goes
The lover rooted stays.
I fancied he was fled,
And after many a year,
Glowed unexhausted kindliness,
Like daily sunrise there.
My careful heart was free again,
Oh friend, my bosom said,
Through the alone the Sky is arched,
Through the rose is red.
All things through thee take nobler form
And look beyond the earth
the mill round of our fates appears
A sun path in they worth.
Me to thy nobleness is taught
To master my despair
The fountains of my hidden life,
Are through thy friendship fair.
Love on his errand bound to go
Can swim the flood, and Wade through snow.
Where way is none it will creep and wind
And eat through Alps it's home to find.
How strange strange strange
The dualism of man
That he can enlist
But half his being in his act
do that which you can do
The world will feel its need of you
how many big events to shake the earth
Lie packed in silence waiting for their birth.
Pail genius roves alone
No scouts contract his way
None credits him till he has shown
His diamonds to the day
All things rehearse
The meaning of the universe.
By virtue of his science the poet is the namer or language maker, naming things sometimes after their appearance, sometimes after their essence and giving to everyone its own name and not in others, thereby rejoicing the intellect which delights in detachment or boundary.
The poet knows what he speaks adequately then only when he speaks somewhat wildly or with the Flowers of the mind: not with the in selects, used as an organ but with the intellect released from all service, and suffered to take its direction from its celestial life. Or as the agents were wants to express themselves, not with intellect alone, but with the intellect inebriated by nectar.
June 12, 2013
Emerson's poetry are Emerson's essays in condensed form, making a great deal of the poetry instructional. Some lines bear up and shine on. Others are in a long conversation with other poets, of the age and of ages past. Interesting, but a bit too mediated and not immediate for my poetic preferences.
July 30, 2014
Reading an old edition of Emerson's poems for my morning meditations. Great way to start the day...
July 8, 2014
This was disappointing. The poem that I was most familiar with going into this, Brahma, remains my favorite of Emerson's poems. In fact, it's the only one that resonates with me at all.
March 20, 2016
I'm learning that while I like Emerson's essays, I really don't like his poetry. . .
August 26, 2016
mình thích đọc emerson viết luận hơn thơ
Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews