Live Oak, with Moss, Leaf 8

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Take notice, you Kanuck woods—and you, 
          Lake Huron—and all that with you roll
          toward Niagara—and you Niagara 
          also, 
And you, Californian mountains—that you
          all find some one else that he be your 
          singer of songs, 
For I can be your singer of songs no 
          longer — I have passed ahead

          I have ceased to enjoy them.
I have found him who loves me, as I him in
          perfect love,
With the rest I dispense—I sever from all
          that I thought would suffice me, for it
          does not--it is now empty and
          tasteless to me,
I heed knowledge, and the grandeur of The
          States, and the examples of heroes, no
          more,

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