The following is from a chapter called “the education of our
girls” and the author encourages a liberal education for all. Here the
recommendation is to learn from nature the skills only a sensitive heart can
acquire. I interpret this to mean that the soft and subtle as well as the
turbulent motions of nature will be drawn into the spirit of the person that “shall
lean her ear in many a secret place.” Learning the laws and impulses nature has
to teach.
“Nature,” begins by
observing a three-year-old child whom she decides to choose for a student.
“Three years she grew in sun and shower;
Then nature said, ‘A lovelier flower
On earth was never sown;
This child I to myself will take,
She shall be mine, and I will make
A lady of my own.
“Myself will to my darling be
Both law and impulse; and with me
The girl, in rock and plain,
In earth and heaven, in glade and bower,
Shall feel an overseeing power
To kindle or restrain.
“She shall be sportive as the fawn
That wild with glee across the lawn
Or up the mountain springs;
And hers shall be the breathing balm,
And hers the silence and the calm,
Of mute insensate things.
“The floating clouds their state shall lend
to her; for her the willow bend;
Nor shall she fail to see
E’en in the motions of the storm
Grace that shall mold the maiden’s form
By silent sympathy.
“The stars of midnight shall be dear
to her; and she shall lean her ear
In many a secret place,
Where rivulets dance their wayward round,
And beauty born of murmuring sound
Shall pass into her face.’”
I can't recall ever reading a more lovely bouquet of thought.
I can't recall ever reading a more lovely bouquet of thought.
5 comments:
“The stars of midnight shall be dear
to her; and she shall lean her ear
In many a secret place,
Where rivulets dance their wayward round,
And beauty born of murmuring sound
Shall pass into her face.’”
love that stanza
Yes, I love that stanza, in fact, each time I re-read this I love it more and I just can't find a common or unexpressive line in it. Masters of the heart.
Beautiful poem. It reminded me of when we lived at Lewis and Destiny. She was about 5 at the time and had wild long curly hair that would fly in the wind behind he when she would run. She would come in from playing outside, red cheeks, blue mouth from summer Popsicles, that would also be on her shirt, dandilions tucked in her wild mane, and would tell me breathlessly about her adventures trying to climb the little cherry tree or the mud dam they built in the dry fishpond. I miss that adorable lisp sometimes.
The above is me, LeeElla :)
LeeElla, I thought that was you but wasn't sure, haven't seen the,"safe to open" site before.
I love what you wrote, it absolutely captures the essence of this poem. I can just see Destiny as you painted that picture of her.
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