Forever.

Stebbins, Friend, 1888

INSPIRATION

That flowing river, which, out of regions I see not, pours for a season its streams into me.

If with light head erect I sing,

Though all the Muses lend their force,

From my poor love of anything,

The verse is weak and shallow as its source.

But if with bended head I grope

Listening behind me for my wit,

With faith superior to hope,

More anxious to keep back than forward it,

Making my soul accomplice there

Unto the flame my heart hath lit,

Then will the verse forever wear,

Time cannot bend a line which God hath writ.

Henry David Thoreau