They Who Set Up The Blocks Of
Stonehenge Did Somewhat, If They Only Laid Out Their Strength For
Once, And Stretched Themselves.
Yet, after all, the truly efficient laborer will not crowd his
day with work, but will saunter to his task surrounded by a wide
halo of ease and leisure, and then do but what he loves best.
He
is anxious only about the fruitful kernels of time. Though the
hen should sit all day, she could lay only one egg, and, besides,
would not have picked up materials for another. Let a man take
time enough for the most trivial deed, though it be but the
paring of his nails. The buds swell imperceptibly, without hurry
or confusion, as if the short spring days were an eternity.
Then spend an age in whetting thy desire,
Thou needs't not _hasten_ if thou dost _stand fast_.
Some hours seem not to be occasion for any deed, but for resolves
to draw breath in. We do not directly go about the execution of
the purpose that thrills us, but shut our doors behind us and
ramble with prepared mind, as if the half were already done. Our
resolution is taking root or hold on the earth then, as seeds
first send a shoot downward which is fed by their own albumen,
ere they send one upward to the light.
There is a sort of homely truth and naturalness in some books
which is very rare to find, and yet looks cheap enough.
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