MountainYoda on Nostr: Emerson: Who is He that Shall Control Me? Who is he that shall control me? Why may ...
Emerson: Who is He that Shall Control Me?
Who is he that shall control me?
Why may not I act & speak & write & think
with entire freedom? What am I to the
Universe, or, the Universe, what
is it to me?
Who hath forged the chains of Wrong & Right,
of Opinion & Custom? And must I wear them?
Is Society my anointed King?
Or is there any mightier community
or any man or more than man,
whose slave I am?
I am solitary in the vast society of beings;
I consort with no species; I indulge no
sympathies. I see the world, human,
brute & inanimate nature; I am in
the midst of them, but not of them;
I hear the song of the storm— the
Winds & warring Elements sweep by me—
but they mix not with my being.
I see cities & nations & witness passions—
the roar of their laughter— but I partake
it not;— the yell of their grief— it touches
no chord in me; their fellowships & fashions,
lusts & virtues, the words & deeds they
call glory & shame— I disclaim them all.
I say to the Universe, Mighty one! thou art
not my mother; Return to chaos, if thou wilt,
I shall still exist. I live. If I owe my being,
it is to a destiny greater than thine.
Star by Star, world by world,
system by system shall be crushed—
but I shall live.
Journal, Dec. 21, 1823
Who is he that shall control me?
Why may not I act & speak & write & think
with entire freedom? What am I to the
Universe, or, the Universe, what
is it to me?
Who hath forged the chains of Wrong & Right,
of Opinion & Custom? And must I wear them?
Is Society my anointed King?
Or is there any mightier community
or any man or more than man,
whose slave I am?
I am solitary in the vast society of beings;
I consort with no species; I indulge no
sympathies. I see the world, human,
brute & inanimate nature; I am in
the midst of them, but not of them;
I hear the song of the storm— the
Winds & warring Elements sweep by me—
but they mix not with my being.
I see cities & nations & witness passions—
the roar of their laughter— but I partake
it not;— the yell of their grief— it touches
no chord in me; their fellowships & fashions,
lusts & virtues, the words & deeds they
call glory & shame— I disclaim them all.
I say to the Universe, Mighty one! thou art
not my mother; Return to chaos, if thou wilt,
I shall still exist. I live. If I owe my being,
it is to a destiny greater than thine.
Star by Star, world by world,
system by system shall be crushed—
but I shall live.
Journal, Dec. 21, 1823