HERMAN GRIMM, writing on Emerson's death (National Zeitung), says, "A picture at Assisi, by Giotto, shows St. Francis restoring to life a woman who had died without confession, long enough to confess to him. The woman raises herself on her bier, and the saint kneels before her. So, it appears to me, Emerson awakened Nature, and gave her a voice, that she might confess to him her secrets, and that he knows of these more than he has told."
With this we may remember one of Emerson's early poems -- Musketaquid.
"Because I was content with these poor fields,
Low, open meads, slender and sluggish streams,
And found a home in haunts which others scorned,
The partial wood-gods overpaid my love,
And granted me the freedom of their state."
The Indian, and the farmer who has succeeded him, are caught into the procession of natural forms passing through without interrupting his solitude.
"Beneath low hills, in the broad interval
Through which at will our Indian rivulet
Winds, mindful still of sannup and of squaw,
Whose pipe and arrow oft the plough unburies,