to sweeten the draught
...Thoreau's Journal: 31-Dec-1853

The notes of the wood thrush and the sounds of a vibrating chord, these affect me as many sounds once did often, and as almost all should. The strains of the aolian harp and of the wood are the truest and loftiest preachers that I know now left on this earth. I know of no missionaries to us heathen comparable to them. They, as it were, lift us up in spite of ourselves. They intoxicate, they charm us. Where was that strain mixed into which this world was dropped but as a lump of sugar to sweeten the draught? I would be drunk, drunk, drunk, dead drunk to this world with it forever. He that hath ears, let him hear. The contact of sound with a human ear whose hearing is pure and unimpaired is coincident with an ecstasy. Sugar is not so sweet to the palate, as sound to the healthy ear; the hearing of it makes men brave.


Anonymous said...

Would it not depend upon what sound it is that is heard?

Anonymous said...

The true ear, which is any ear, enjoys true sound, which is any sound.

michael jameson said...

it is the sound !, the words the music that inspire us! and the music of nature can make one feel, most of all!.

X Vel said...

What a delicious reflection! The sound our Thoreau loves, is the voice of the beloved to the lover, of being to the mystic, the cry of the newly born to the heart of father & mother, and the song and dance of creation, being danced fresh and alive in eternity present!

The sound of New Life happening now, afresh to ears that can and would hear!

Happy New Year, new Day, new Now!