I trust in Nature for the stable laws
Of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant
And Autumn read more

I trust in Nature for the stable laws
Of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant
And Autumn garner to the end of time.
I trust in God--the right shall be the right
And other than the wrong, while he endures;
I trust in my own soul, that can perceive
The outward and the inward, Nature's good
And God's.

Will urban sprawl spread so far that most people lose all touch with nature? Will the day come when the read more

Will urban sprawl spread so far that most people lose all touch with nature? Will the day come when the only bird a typical American child ever sees is a canary in a pet shop window? When the only wild animal he knows is a rat - glimpsed on a night drive through some city slum? When the only tree he touches is the cleverly fabricated plastic evergreen that shades his gifts on Christmas morning?

As for evolution, I have a hard time believing that billions of years ago two protozoan bumped into each other read more

As for evolution, I have a hard time believing that billions of years ago two protozoan bumped into each other under a volcanic cesspool and evolved into Cindy Crawford.

Eagles come in all shapes and sizes, but you will recognize them chiefly by their attitudes.

Eagles come in all shapes and sizes, but you will recognize them chiefly by their attitudes.

I never saw a discontented tree. They grip the ground as though they liked it, and though fast rooted they read more

I never saw a discontented tree. They grip the ground as though they liked it, and though fast rooted they travel about as far as we do.

A man is related to all nature.

A man is related to all nature.

Nature is an infinite sphere whose center is everywhere and whose circumference is nowhere

Nature is an infinite sphere whose center is everywhere and whose circumference is nowhere

Ah, summer, what power you have to make us suffer and like it.

Ah, summer, what power you have to make us suffer and like it.

Poetry is a rich, full-bodied whistle, cracked ice crunching in pails, the night that numbs the leaf, the duel of read more

Poetry is a rich, full-bodied whistle, cracked ice crunching in pails, the night that numbs the leaf, the duel of two nightingales, the sweet pea that has run wild, Creation's tears in shoulder blades.