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    AC Benus
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Great Mirror of Same-Sex Love - Poetry - 11. ...the fountains of my hidden life...

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Friendship

 

 

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 –

‘O friend,’ my bosom said,

‘Through thee alone the sky is arched,

Through thee the rose is red;

All things through thee take nobler form,

And look beyond the earth,

And is the mill-round of our fate

A sun-path in thy worth.

Me too thy nobleness has taught

To master my despair;

The fountains of my hidden life

Are through thy friendship fair.’

—Ralph Waldo Emerson,[i]

1841

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


[i] “Friendship” Ralph Waldo Emerson Essays: First Series (Boston 1841), p. 173: this original poem stands as epigraph to the writer's essay of the same name.

https://archive.org/details/essays15emergoog/page/n190/mode/2up

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as noted
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Here Emerson’s poetry makes his prose meaning plain. I’m taken by this, and by the images that leap from the page in their 19th century vibrancy. 

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2 minutes ago, Parker Owens said:

Here Emerson’s poetry makes his prose meaning plain. I’m taken by this, and by the images that leap from the page in their 19th century vibrancy. 

Thanks, Parker. Longfellow too has a poem in the same emotional light as this one, and I look forward to posting it :)

 

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