thoreaufan
12-12-2009, 12:26 AM
Hi, everyone,
I am reading the chapter 5: solitude of the book, Walden.
There is a poem below written when Thoreau felt how congenial Nature is to him in a rainning day:
"Mourning untimely consumes the sad;
Few are their days in the land of the living,
Beautiful daughter of Toscar."
Then the question is:
Who is the Toscar, or especially his/her daughter ?:argue:
plus:
How to understand the poem ?
I would like to quote some sentences before the poem in the book to help you understanding the context:
" In the midst of a gentle rain while these thoughts prevailed, I was suddenly sensible of such sweet and benificent society in Nature, in the very pattering of the drops, and in every sound and sight around my house, an infinite and
unaccountable friendliness all at once like an atmosphere sustaining me, as made the fancied advantages of human neighborhood insignificant, and I have never thought of them since. Every little pine needle expanded and swelled with sympathy and befriended me. I was so extinctly made aware of the presence of something kindred to me, even in scenes which we are accustomed to call wild and dreary, and also that the nearest of blood to me and humanest was not a person nor a villager, that I thought no place could ever be strange to me again. --" , Then follows the poem above.
Thanks.
I am reading the chapter 5: solitude of the book, Walden.
There is a poem below written when Thoreau felt how congenial Nature is to him in a rainning day:
"Mourning untimely consumes the sad;
Few are their days in the land of the living,
Beautiful daughter of Toscar."
Then the question is:
Who is the Toscar, or especially his/her daughter ?:argue:
plus:
How to understand the poem ?
I would like to quote some sentences before the poem in the book to help you understanding the context:
" In the midst of a gentle rain while these thoughts prevailed, I was suddenly sensible of such sweet and benificent society in Nature, in the very pattering of the drops, and in every sound and sight around my house, an infinite and
unaccountable friendliness all at once like an atmosphere sustaining me, as made the fancied advantages of human neighborhood insignificant, and I have never thought of them since. Every little pine needle expanded and swelled with sympathy and befriended me. I was so extinctly made aware of the presence of something kindred to me, even in scenes which we are accustomed to call wild and dreary, and also that the nearest of blood to me and humanest was not a person nor a villager, that I thought no place could ever be strange to me again. --" , Then follows the poem above.
Thanks.