Explore "Rumors from an Æolian Harp" by Henry David Thoreau on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
There is a vale which none hath seen, / Where foot of man has never been, / Such as here lives with toil and strife, / An anxious and a sinful life.
There every virtue has its birth, / Ere it descends upon the earth, / And thither every deed returns, / Which in the generous bosom burns.
There love is warm, and youth is young, / And poetry is yet unsung, / For Virtue still adventures there, / And freely breathes her native air.
And ever, if you hearken well, / You still may hear its vesper bell, / And tread of high-souled men go by, / Their thoughts conversing with the sky.