Amos Bronson Alcott (1799–1888)

TAKES sunbeams, spring waters,

Earth’s juices, meads’ creams,

Bathes in floods of sweet ethers,

Comes baptized from the streams;

Guest of Him, the sweet-lipp’d,

The Dreamer’s quaint dreams.

Mingles morals idyllic

With Samian fable,

Sage seasoned from cruets,

Of Plutarch’s chaste table.

Pledges Zeus, Zoroaster,

Tastes Cana’s glad cheer,

Sun’s, globes, on his trencher,

The elements there.

Bowls of sunrise for breakfast

Brimful of the East,

Foaming flagons of frolic

His evening’s gay feast.

Sov’reign solids of nature,

Solar seeds of the sphere,

Olympian viand

Surprising as rare.

Thus baiting his genius,

His wonderful word

Brings poets and sibyls

To sup at his board.

Feeds thus and thus fares he,

Speeds thus and thus cares he,

Thus faces and graces

Life’s long euthanasies,

His gifts unabated,

Transfigured, translated—

The idealist prudent,

Saint, poet, priest, student,

Philosopher, he.