240 EARLY SPRING IN MASSACHUSETTS. 
bank of a river, not close and precise like a 
bank or ditch. 
It is always a short step to peace of mind. 
I must not lose any of my freedom by being 
a farmer and landholder. Most who enter on 
any profession are doomed men. The world 
might as well sing a dirge over them forthwith. 
The farmer’s muscles are rigid; he can do one 
thing long, not many well. His pace seems 
determined henceforth. He never quickens it. 
A very rigid Nemesis is his fate. When the 
right wind blows, or a star calls, I can leave 
this arable and grass ground without making a 
will or settling my estate. I would buy a farm 
as freely as a silken streamer. Let me not 
think my front windows must face east hence¬ 
forth because a particular hill slopes that way. 
My life must undulate still. I will not feel that 
my wings are dipt when once I have settled on 
ground which the law calls my own, but find 
new pinions grown to the old, and talaria to my 
feet beside. 
Sunday , March 27, 1842. The eye must be 
firmly anchored to this earth which beholds 
birches and pines waving in the breeze in a cer¬ 
tain light, a serene, rippling light. * 
Cliffs. The little hawks have just come out 
to play, like butterflies rising one above the 
other in endless alternation, far below me. 
