Each and All

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Little thinks, in the field, yon red-cloaked clown,

On thee, from the hill top looking down;

And the heifer that lows on the upland farm,

Far heard, lows not thine ear to charm;

The sexton, tolling the bell at noon,

Dreams not that great Napoleon

Stops his horse and lists with delight,

As his files sweep round yon distant height;

Nor knowest thou what argument

Thy life to thy neighbor's creed hath lent;

All are needed by each one—
Nothing is fair or good alone.

I caught the linnet's note from heaven,

Singing at dawn, on the alder bough;

I brought him home in his nest at even:

He sings the song; but it pleases not now;

For I did not bring home the river and sky;

He sang to my ear—they sing to my eye.

The delicate shell lay on the shore;

The bubbles of the latest wave

Fresh pearls to their emerald gave;

And the bellowing of the savage sea

Greeted their safe escape to me.

I wiped away the weeds and foam,

And fetched my sea-born treasures home;

But the poor, unsightly, noisome things

Had left their beauty on the shore,

With the sun, and the sand, and the wild uproar

Nor rose, nor stream, nor bird is fair;
Their concord is beyond compare.