Walden: Sounds

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Walden: Sounds

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  • Black = Unchanged text through the Princeton Ed.
  • Gray = introduced in some versions as a change, assumed to be same as the base
  • Red = supplied text (interpolated, not in manuscripts)
  • Green = interlined in ink.
  • Olive = interlined in pencil.
  • Strikethrough = cancelled text.

List of Versions

  • Princeton_Ed: Princeton Ed. of Walden
  • Version_A: Walden, Version A (1847)
  • Version_B: Walden, Version B (1849)
  • Version_C: Walden, Version C (1849)
  • Version_D: Walden, Version D (1852)
  • Version_E: Walden, Version E (late 1852 - 1853)
  • Version_F: Walden, Version F (1853-1854)
  • Version_G: Walden, Version G (1854)

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Published by Walden: Fluid Text is published by Digital Thoreau at The State University of New York College at Geneseo..

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Sounds Sounds Sounds Sounds Sounds
1
Sounds 1 written: A rewritten: D
A: “The rays which stream … walk on into futurity” is interlined.

(Ronald Clapper)
Yet after all, while we are confined to books though the most select & classic and study only particular written languages which are themselves but dialects or provincialisms, we are apt to forget the language, or rather the expression, which all things every where, morning & evening and all events speak—which only is copious, for the tongue is only an accidental organ of speech even of this written language which it has helped to establish serving equally the palate, and speech itself is partial, uttering and still lips were the methods which it had established necessary or sufficient for the silent expression of truth by instilling us. For both speech and writing are partial, utters but a small part of the meaning with which the silence is fraught.—I mean here the language which things speak originally and without metaphor—such as the life of a man hears rather than his ears & his instincts speak—rather than his tongue and at length through all his actions or his life he learns to mutter. With a more copious hearing or understanding of what is published, the views ever fresh which the breezes of heaven waft to us, and all things exhale the present languages and all that they express or can express will be forgotten Yet after all, while we are confined to books though the most select & classic and study only particular written languages which are themselves but dialects or provincialisms, we are apt to forget the language, or rather the expression, which all things every where, morning & evening and all events speak—which only is copious, for the tongue is only an accidental organ of speech even of this written language which it has helped to establish serving equally the palate, and speech itself is partial, uttering and still lips were the methods which it had established necessary or sufficient for the silent expression of truth by instilling us. For both speech and writing are partial, utters but a small part of the meaning with which the silence is fraught.—I mean here the language which things speak originally and without metaphor—such as the life of a man hears rather than his ears & his instincts speak—rather than his tongue and at length through all his actions or his life he learns to mutter. With a more copious hearing or understanding of what is published, the views ever fresh which the breezes of heaven waft to us, and all things exhale the present languages and all that they express or can express will be forgotten Yet after all, while we are confined to books though the most select & classic and study only particular written languages which are themselves but dialects or provincialisms, we are apt to forget the language, or rather the expression, which all things every where, morning & evening and all events speak—which only is copious, for the tongue is only an accidental organ of speech even of this written language which it has helped to establish serving equally the palate, and speech itself is partial, uttering and still lips were the methods which it had established necessary or sufficient for the silent expression of truth by instilling us. For both speech and writing are partial, utters but a small part of the meaning with which the silence is fraught.—I mean here the language which things speak originally and without metaphor—such as the life of a man hears rather than his ears & his instincts speak—rather than his tongue and at length through all his actions or his life he learns to mutter. With a more copious hearing or understanding of what is published, the views ever fresh which the breezes of heaven waft to us, and all things exhale the present languages and all that they express or can express will be forgotten But while we are confined to books, though the most select and classic, and read only particular written languages which are themselves but dialects and provincial, we are in danger of forgetting the language which all things and events, beast bird and flower, morning and evening— speak originally and without metaphor, which only alone is copious and standard, and an adequate expression of the meaning with which the universe is fraught; the language which the soul of a man hears rather than his ears, or understanding and his divine instincts speak rather than his tongue. With a more copious hearing or understanding of what is published, the views ever fresh which the breezes waft to us, the present languages and all that they express or can express will be forgotten BUT while we are confined to books, though the most select and classic, and read only particular written languages, which are themselves but dialects and provincial, we are in danger of forgetting the language which all things and events speak without metaphor, which alone is copious and standard. Much is published, but little printed. BUT while we are confined to books, though the most select and classic, and read only particular written languages, which are themselves but dialects and provincial, we are in danger of forgetting the language which all things and events speak without metaphor, which alone is copious and standard. Much is published, but little printed. BUT while we are confined to books, though the most select and classic, and read only particular written languages, which are themselves but dialects and provincial, we are in danger of forgetting the language which all things and events speak without metaphor, which alone is copious and standard. Much is published, but little printed. BUT while we are confined to books, though the most select and classic, and read only particular written languages, which are themselves but dialects and provincial, we are in danger of forgetting the language which all things and events speak without metaphor, which alone is copious and standard. Much is published, but little printed. The rays which streamed streamed streamed streamed stream stream stream stream through the crevices crevices crevices crevices shutter shutter shutter shutter shutter will be no longer remembered when the shadow shadow shadow shadow shutter shutter shutter shutter shutter is wholly removed. No method nor discipline can supersede the necessity of being forever on the alert. What is a course of history, or philosophy, or poetry, or poetry, or poetry, or poetry, or poetry, or poetry, or poetry, no matter how well selected, or the best society, or the most admirable routine of life, compared with the discipline of seeing always looking always at looking always at looking always at looking always at looking always at looking always at looking always at what is to be seen? Will you be a reader, a student merely, or a seer? Read your fate, see what is before you, and walk on into futurity.
2a
Sounds 2a written: A rewritten: B, D

(Ronald Clapper)
I did not read books the first summer; rather I hoed rather I hoed rather I hoed rather I hoed I hoed I hoed I hoed I hoed beans. Nay, I often did better than this. There were times when I could not afford to sacrifice rub off sacrifice sacrifice rub off sacrifice sacrifice rub off sacrifice sacrifice rub off sacrifice sacrifice sacrifice sacrifice sacrifice the bloom of the present moment to with to to with to to with to to with to to to to to any work, whether of the head or hands. I loved love loved love loved love loved love love love love love a broad margin to my life. 2b
Sounds 2b written: A rewritten: B, F
A & B: “My days were not days of the week … overhead for the passing day” does not appear in the manuscript.
B: A fair copy was made of only “Sometimes, in a summer morning … I was reminded of the lapse of time” and “some work of mine … should not have been found wanting”.

(Ronald Clapper)
Sometimes, in a spring morning when the season of work was past or had not yet arrived or later in the summer when it was already past having performed my accustomed ablutions spring morning when the season of work had not yet arrived, or later in the summer when it was already passed, having performed my accustomed ablutions spring morning when the season of work had not yet arrived, or later in the summer when it was already passed, having performed my accustomed ablutions spring morning when the season of work had not yet arrived, or later in the summer when it was already passed, having performed my accustomed ablutions spring morning when the season of work had not yet arrived, or later in the summer when it was already passed, having performed my accustomed ablutions summer morning, having performed my accustomed ablutions taken my accustomed bath summer morning, having taken my accustomed bath, summer morning, having taken my accustomed bath, I sat in my sunny doorway from the earliest dawn earliest dawn earliest dawn earliest dawn earliest dawn earliest dawn sunrise till noon sunrise till noon, sunrise till noon, rapt in a revery, amid amid amidst amidst amidst amidst amidst amidst the pines and hickories and sumachs, in undisturbed solitude and stillness, in undisturbed solitude and stillness, in undisturbed solitude and stillness, in undisturbed solitude and stillness, in undisturbed solitude and stillness, in undisturbed solitude and stillness, while the birds sang around and and or or or or or or or flitted noiseless through the house over my head and out at the open window— otherwise in undisputed solitude & stillness, except perchance when a bough fell like a fan to the ground broken by its own weight, in my sumach grove, when the atmosphere was filled with perfume and incense, and every sound was the key to unheard harmonies, until by the sun’s rays through the house, over my head and out the open window, otherwise in undisturbed solitude and stillness, except perchance when a bough fell to the ground, broken by its own weight in my sumach grove,—when the atmosphere was filled with perfume and every sound was the key to unheard harmonies, until by the sun’s rays through the house, until by the sun through the house, until by the sun through the house, until by the sun through the house, until by the sun through the house, until by the sun through the house, until by the sun falling in at my west window, or the noise of some traveller traveller’s wagon traveller’s wagon traveller’s wagon traveller’s wagon traveller’s wagon traveller’s wagon traveller’s wagon on the distant highway, I was reminded of the lapse of time. I am sensible that I waxed and grew in these intervals as corn grows am sensible that I waxed and grew in these intervals as corn grows am sensible that I waxed and grew in these intervals as corn grows am sensible that I waxed and grew in these intervals as corn grows am sensible that I waxed and grew in these intervals as corn grows am sensible that I grew in those seasons like corn grew in those seasons like corn grew in those seasons like corn in the night, and they were far better than any work of the hands would have been. would have been. would have been. would have been. would have been. would have been. would have been. They were not so much time subtracted from my life, but so much over & above the my usual allowance —little intervals during which I journeyed and anticipated other states of existence They were not time subtracted from my life, but so much over and above my usual allowance. They were not time subtracted from my life, but so much over and above my usual allowance. I realized what the Oriental philosophers Orientals meant Oriental philosophers Orientals meant Oriental philosophers Orientals meant Oriental philosophers Orientals meant Oriental philosophers Orientals meant Orientals meant Orientals mean Orientals mean by contemplation and the forsaking of works. For the most part, indeed I knew indeed I knew indeed I knew indeed I knew indeed I knew indeed in short I minded I minded I minded not how the hours went. I was accustomed to say to myself—certainly I am not living that heroic life I had dreamed of, and yet all my veins are full of life, and nature whispers no reproach went. went. went. went. went. went. went. The day advanced as if to light some work of mine—and I defer to other men others in my thought, as if there were somewhere busier men mine—and I defer to others in my thought, as if there were somewhere busier men mine; mine; mine; mine; mine; mine; it was morning, and lo, now it is evening, and nothing memorable is accomplished. Yet my nature is was almost content with this. What are these pines & these birds about? What is this pond a-doing? I must know a little more and be forever ready accomplished. Yet my nature was almost content with this. What are these pines & these birds about? What is this pond a-doing? I must know a little more and be forever ready accomplished. accomplished. accomplished. accomplished. accomplished. accomplished. Instead of singing like the birds, I sometimes silently smile sometimes silently smile silently smiled silently smiled silently smiled silently smiled silently smiled silently smiled silently smiled at my incessant good fortune. As the field sparrow has tree sparrow has sparrow had sparrow had sparrow had sparrow had sparrow had sparrow had its trill, sitting on the hickory before my door, so has has had had had had had had I my chuckle or suppressed warble which he may may might might might might might might might hear out of my nest. I lived in more primitive and absolute time than before. My I lived in more primitive and absolute time than before. My I lived in more primitive and absolute time than before. My I lived in more primitive and absolute time than before. My I lived in more primitive and absolute time than before. My I lived in more primitive and absolute time than before. My My My days were not days of the week, bearing the stamp of any heathen deity, bearing the stamp of any heathen deity, nor were they minced into hours and fretted by the ticking of a clock; My life in this respect was like that of for I lived like My life in this respect was like that of for I lived like My life in this respect was like that of for I lived like My life in this respect was like that of for I lived like My life in this respect was like that of for I lived like My life in this respect was like that of for I lived like for I lived like for I lived like the Puri Indians, of whom it is said that “for yesterday, to-day, and to-morrow they have only one word, and they express the variety of meaning by pointing backward for yesterday, forward for to-morrow, and overhead for the passing day.” I don’t know that I bear any flowers or fruits. Methinks if the birds & flowers try me by their standard I shall not be found wanting, but men try one another not so. Man is still like a plant, and his satisfactions are like those of a vegetable. His rarest life is least his own. At such an hour I am not the worker but the work. The elements are working their will with me I don’t know that I bear any flowers or fruits. Yet methinks if the birds and flowers try me by their standard I shall not be found wanting, but men try one another not so. At such an hour, I am not the worker but the work. The elements are working their will with me This was sheer idleness to my fellow-townsmen, no doubt; but if the birds and flowers had tried me by their standard, I should not have been found wanting. This was sheer idleness to my fellow-townsmen, no doubt; but if the birds and flowers had tried me by their standard, I should not have been found wanting. This was sheer idleness to my fellow-townsmen, no doubt; but if the birds and flowers had tried me by their standard, I should not have been found wanting. This was sheer idleness to my fellow-townsmen, no doubt; but if the birds and flowers had tried me by their standard, I should not have been found wanting. This was sheer idleness to my fellow-townsmen, no doubt; but if the birds and flowers had tried me by their standard, I should not have been found wanting. This was sheer idleness to my fellow-townsmen, no doubt; but if the birds and flowers had tried me by their standard, I should not have been found wanting. 2c
Sounds 2c written: A rewritten: B, F
A & B: Sounds 2c follows Sounds 3
A: Sounds 2c is followed by Where I Lived, and What I Lived For 21b.

(Ronald Clapper)
A man must find his own his his his his his his his occasions in himself, it is true. it is true. it is true. it is true. it is true. it is true. The natural day is very calm, and will hardly reprove his indolence. If there was When there is no elevation in our spirits my spirit the pond would does not seem elevated like a mountain tarn, but a low pool, a silent muddy water & place for fishermen indolence. Where there is was no elevation of my spirit the pond does did not seem elevated like a mountain tarn, but a low pool, a silent muddy water & place for fishermen. indolence. Where there is was no elevation of my spirit the pond does did not seem elevated like a mountain tarn, but a low pool, a silent muddy water & place for fishermen. indolence. Where there is was no elevation of my spirit the pond does did not seem elevated like a mountain tarn, but a low pool, a silent muddy water & place for fishermen. indolence. Where there is was no elevation of my spirit the pond does did not seem elevated like a mountain tarn, but a low pool, a silent muddy water & place for fishermen. indolence. Where there is was no elevation of my spirit the pond does did not seem elevated like a mountain tarn, but a low pool, a silent muddy water and place for fishermen. I am glad to remember as I sit by my door that I too am a remote descendant at least of a heroic race of men of whom there is tradition, in one sense a fellow wanderer and survivor of Ulysses, for instance. My life passes amid the pines of New England. The pitch pine grows before my door unlike any symbol or glyphic I have seen painted. Where are the heroes whose exploits shall appear to posterity sculptured on monuments amid such natural forms as these? As we see heroes and demigods amid the lotuses and palms of the east. Where are the new Americans whose forms shall be sculpted on the Reed Pipe-stone Quarry? indolence. indolence.
3
Sounds 3 written: A rewritten: B
A & B: Sounds 3 follows Sounds 2b and precedes Sounds 2c.

(Ronald Clapper)
I seemed to have seemed to have had had had had had had had this advantage, at least, in my mode of life, over those who were obliged to look abroad for amusement, to theaters and society theaters and to society society and to the theatre society and the theatre, society and the theatre, society and the theatre, society and the theatre, society and the theatre, society and the theatre, that my life itself was become become become become become become become become my amusement and never ceased to be novel. It was a drama of many scenes which would never and without an and without an and without an and without an and without an and without an and without an and without an end. If we were always indeed getting our living, and regulating our lives according to the last and divinest divinest best best best best best best best mode we had learned, we should never be weary of living troubled with ennui troubled with ennui. troubled with ennui. troubled with ennui. troubled with ennui. troubled with ennui. troubled with ennui. troubled with ennui. Follow your genius closely enough, and it will not fail to show you a fresh prospect every hour. Housework was a pleasant pastime. When my floor was dirty, I rose early, and, setting all my furniture out of doors on the grass, bed and bedstead making but one budget, bed and bedstead making but one budget, bed and bedstead making but one budget, bed and bedstead making but one budget, bed and bedstead making but one budget, bed and bedstead making but one budget, bed and bedstead making but one budget, bed and bedstead making but one budget, dashed water upon on on on on on on on the floor, and sprinkled white sand from the pond upon on on on on on on on on it, and then with a broom scrubbed it clean and white; and by the time the villagers had broken their fast the morning sun had dried my house sufficiently to allow me to move in again, and my meditations were almost uninterrupted—If any should choose to see my manuscripts I trust that none of my hearers they will not be so charitable as to look into my house now—after hearing reading this, at the end of an unusually dirty winter, with critical housewife’s eyes, for I intend to celebrate the first bright and unquestionable spring morning by scrubbing my house with sand until it is as white as a lily—or, at any rate, as the washer-woman said of her clothes, as white as a “wiolet” uninterrupted. uninterrupted. uninterrupted. uninterrupted. uninterrupted. uninterrupted. uninterrupted. It was pleasant to see my whole household effects out on the grass, making a little pile like a gypsy’s pack, and my three-legged table, from which I did not remove the books and pen and ink, standing amid the pines and hickories. They seemed glad to get out themselves, and as if unwilling to be brought in. I was sometimes tempted to stretch an awning over them and take my seat there. It was worth the while to see the sun shine on these things, and hear hear hear hear hear hear hear hear the free wind blow upon on on on on on on on on them; so much more beautiful any beautiful thing looks beautiful any beautiful thing looks interesting most familiar objects look interesting most familiar objects look interesting most familiar objects look interesting most familiar objects look interesting most familiar objects look interesting most familiar objects look interesting most familiar objects look out of doors than in the house. A bird sits on the next bough, life-everlasting grows under the table, and blackberry vines run round its legs; pine cones, chestnut burs, and strawberry leaves are strewn about. It looked as if this was the way these forms came to be transferred to our furniture, to tables, chairs, and bedsteads,—because they once stood in their midst.
4a
Sounds 4a written: A rewritten: B

(Ronald Clapper)
My house was on the side of a hill, immediately on the edge of the larger wood, in the midst of a young forest of pitch pines and hickories, and half a dozen rods from the pond, to which a narrow footpath led down the hill. In my front yard grow grew the black-berry and strawberry & the grew the blackberry strawberry strawberry blackberry and grew the strawberry, blackberry, and grew the strawberry, blackberry, and grew the strawberry, blackberry, and grew the strawberry, blackberry, and grew the strawberry, blackberry, and grew the strawberry, blackberry, and life-everlasting, johnswort and golden-rod, & shruboak shrub-oaks shrub-oaks shrub-oaks shrub-oaks shrub-oaks shrub-oaks shrub-oaks and sand-cherry, & blueberry blueberry blueberry blueberry blueberry blueberry blueberry blueberry and ground-nut. 4b
Sounds 4b written: D
D: Sounds 4b was added to the manuscript on a partial leaf.

(Ronald Clapper)
Near the end of May, the sand-cherry, prunus depruna Cerasus pumila Cerasus pumila, Cerasus pumila, Cerasus pumila, Cerasus pumila, adorned the sides of the path adorned the sides of the path adorned the sides of the path adorned the sides of the path with its delicate flowers arranged in umbels cylindrically about its short stems, which last, in the fall, weighed down with good sized and handsome cherries, fell over in wreaths like rays on every side. I tasted them out of compliment to Nature, though they were scarcely palatable. 4c
Sounds 4c written: A rewritten: B

(Ronald Clapper)
The sumachs sumachs Rhus glabra sumach,, sumach,, sumach,, sumach,, sumach,, sumach,, grew luxuriantly about my my the the the the the the house, pushing up through the embankment which which which which which which which I had made, and growing five or six feet the first season. Its broad pinnate tropical leaf was pleasant though strange though strange though strange though strange though strange though strange though strange though strange to look upon. upon on. on. on. on. on. on. on. The large buds, suddenly pushing out late in the spring late in the spring late in the spring late in the spring late in the spring late in the spring late in the spring late in the spring from dry and brittle dry and brittle dry dry dry dry dry dry sticks which had seemed to be to be to be to be to be to be to be to be dead, developed themselves as it were as it were as as as as as as by magic into graceful green and tender boughs, an inch in diameter; and sometimes, as I sat at my window, so heedlessly did they grow and tax their brittle stems, brittle stems, weak joints, weak joints, weak joints, weak joints, weak joints, weak joints, I heard a fresh and green tender tender tender tender tender tender tender tender bough suddenly fall like a fan like a fan like a fan like a fan like a fan like a fan like a fan like a fan to the ground, when there was not a breath of air, broken off at its foot air stirring, broken off at its foot air stirring, broken off air stirring, broken off air stirring, broken off air stirring, broken off air stirring, broken off air stirring, broken off by its own weight. In the fall the fall August August, August, August, August, August, August, the large masses of red berries, berries, berries, berries, berries, berries, berries, berries, which, when in flower, had attracted many wild bees,to my house bees, bees, bees, bees, bees, bees, bees, gradually assumed their bright scarlet and velvety crimson and velvety velvety crimson velvety crimson velvety crimson velvety crimson velvety crimson velvety crimson hue, and by their weight again bent down and broke the tender limbs.
5
Sounds 5 written: A rewritten: E
A: “I doubt if there is such a place … its soothing sound is—Concord” does not appear in the manuscript.
E: The title “Railroad” appears in pencil at the top of the leaf

(Ronald Clapper)
As I sit at my window this summer afternoon, like a priest of Isis and observe the phenomena of 3000 years ago still unimpaired. The sacred afternoon, afternoon, afternoon, afternoon, afternoon, afternoon, afternoon, hawks are circling about this temple my clearing; my clearing; my clearing; my clearing; my clearing; my clearing; my clearing; the tantivy of wild pigeons an ancient race of birds pigeons an ancient race of birds pigeons an ancient race of birds pigeons an ancient race of birds pigeons, an ancient race of birds pigeons, pigeons, pigeons, flying by two and threes athwart my view, or perching restless on the white-pine boughs behind my house, gives a voice to the air; a fishhawk dimples the glassy surface of the pond and brings up a fish; a muskrat mink mink mink mink mink mink mink steals out of the marsh before my door and seizes a frog in the pond by the shore; by the shore; by the shore; by the shore; by the shore; by the shore; by the shore; the sedge is bending under the weight of the reed-birds flitting here and there hither and thither; hither and thither; hither and thither; hither and thither; hither and thither; hither and thither; hither and thither; and for the last half hour I have heard the rattle of railroad cars, now dying away and then reviving like the beat of a partridge, conveying travellers from Boston to the country—or the faint rattle and tinkle which mark the passage of a carriage or team along the distant highway— country. country. country. country. country. country. country. For I did not live in such an outlandish and out of the way place so out of the world so out of the world so out of the world so out of the world so out of the world so out of the world so out of the world as that boy, who, as I hear, was put out to a farmer in the east part of the town, but ere long ran away and came home again, quite down at the heel and homesick. He had never seen such a dull and out-of-the-world out-of-the-way out-of-the-way out-of-the-way out-of-the-way out-of-the-way out-of-the-way out-of-the-way place; the folks were all gone away off; off; off; off; off; off; off; why, you couldn’t even hear the whistle! I doubt if there is such a place in Massachusetts now:—
 
“In truth, our village has become a butt
 
For one of those fleet railroad shafts, and o’er
 
Our peaceful plain its soothing sound is—Concord.”
6a
Sounds 6a written: A rewritten: E

(Ronald Clapper)
The Fitchburg Railroad then newly constructed Railroad then newly constructed Railroad then newly constructed Railroad then newly constructed Railroad then newly constructed Railroad Railroad Railroad touches the pond within about a hundred rods of my house about a hundred rods south of where I dwell. about a hundred rods south of where I dwell. about a hundred rods south of where I dwell. about a hundred rods south of where I dwell. about a hundred rods south of where I dwell. about a hundred rods south of where I dwell. about a hundred rods south of where I dwell. 6b
Sounds 6b written: E
E: Sounds 6b is interlined.

(Ronald Clapper)
I usually went go go go go to the village along its causeway, and was am am, am, am, as it were, related to society by this link. The men on the freight trains, who go over the whole length of the road, bow to me as to an old acquaintance, they pass me so often, and apparently they take me for an employee; and so I am. I too would fain be a track-repairer somewhere in the orbit of the earth.
7
Sounds 7 written: A rewritten: B, E
B: A fair copy was made of only “sounding like the scream … the wit that writes them”.
E: A fair copy was made of only “The whistle of the locomotive … many restless city merchants”.

(Ronald Clapper)
The whistle of the steam engine steam engine steam engine steam engine steam engine locomotive locomotive locomotive penetrates my woods summer and winter, sounding like the scream of a hawk sailing over some farmer’s yard, informing me that many restless city merchants were were are are are are are are are arriving within the circle of the town, or adventurous country traders from the other side. As they come under one horizon, they shout their warning to get off the track to the other, heard sometimes through the circles of two towns. Here come your groceries, country; your rations, countrymen! Nor is there any man so independent on his farm as as that he that he that he that he that he that he that he can say them nay. And here’s your pay for them! screams the countryman’s whistle; timber like long catapults catapults battering-rams battering rams battering rams battering rams battering rams battering rams battering rams going twenty miles an hour against the city city city’s city’s city’s city’s city’s city’s city’s walls, and chairs enough to seat all the weary and heavy laden that dwell within ye them. them. them. them. them. them. them. With such huge and lumbering civility the country hands a chair to the city. All the Indian huckleberry hills are stripped, all the cranberry meadows are raked into the city. Up comes the cotton, down goes the woven cloth; up comes the silk, down goes the woollen; up come the books, but down goes the wit that writes them.
8
Sounds 8 written: A rewritten: B

(Ronald Clapper)
When I meet the engine with its train of cars moving off with planetary motion,—or, rather, like a comet, for the beholder knows not if that with that with that with that with that with that with that with that velocity and with that direction it will ever revisit this system, for for since since since since since since since its orbit does not look like a returning curve,—with its steam cloud like a banner streaming behind in golden and silver wreaths, like many a fleecy cloud that fleecy downy cloud that which downy cloud which downy cloud which downy cloud which downy cloud which downy cloud which downy cloud which I have seen, high in the heavens in a summer day heavens in a summer day heavens, heavens, heavens, heavens, heavens, heavens, unfolding its masses to the light,—as if this traveling demigod, this cloud-compeller, this cloud-compeller, this cloud-compeller, this cloud-compeller, this cloud-compeller, this cloud-compeller, would ere long take the sunset sky for the livery of his train; when I hear the iron horse make the hills echo with his snort like thunder, shaking the earth with his feet, and breathing fire and smoke from his nostrils, (what kind of winged horse or fiery dragon they will put into the new Mythology I don’t know,) it seems as if the earth had got a race now worthy to inhabit it. If all were as it seems, and men made the elements their servants for noble ends! If the cloud that hangs over the engine were the perspiration of heroic deeds, or as innocent and beneficent innocent and beneficent beneficent beneficent beneficent beneficent beneficent beneficent to men as that which hovers floats floats floats floats floats floats floats floats over the farmer’s fields, then the elements and Nature herself would cheerfully accompany men on their errands and be their escort.
9
Sounds 9 written: A rewritten: B
A & B: “I watch the passage of the morning cars … the barb of the spear” does not appear in the manuscript in A or in the original copying of B but is interlined in pencil in B.

(Ronald Clapper)
I watch the passage of the morning train cars train cars cars cars cars cars cars cars with the same feeling that I do the rising of the sun, which is not hardly not hardly hardly hardly hardly hardly hardly hardly more regular. Their train of clouds stretching far behind and rising higher and higher, going to heaven while the cars are going to Boston, conceals the sun for many minutes many minutes a minute a minute a minute a minute a minute a minute and casts my distant field into the shade, a celestial train beside which the petty train of cars which hugs the earth is but the barb of the spear. The stabler of the iron horse was up early this winter morning by the light of the stars amid the mountains, to fodder and harness his steed. Fire, too, was awakened thus early to put the vital beat in him and get him off. If the enterprise were as innocent as it is early! If the snow lies deep, they strap on his snow-shoes, and with the giant plow, plow a furrow from the mountains to the seaboard, in which the cars, like a following drill-barrow, sprinkle all the restless men and floating merchandise in the country for seed. All day the fire-steed flies over the country, stopping only that his master may rest, and I am awakened by his tramp and defiant snort at midnight, when in some remote glen in the woods he fronts the elements incased in ice and snow; and will only reach his stall he will only reach his stall only he will reach his stall only he will reach his stall only he will reach his stall only he will reach his stall only he will reach his stall only he will reach his stall only with the morning star, to start once more on his travels without rest or slumber. Or perchance, at evening, I hear him in his stable blowing off the superfluous energy of the day, that he may calm his nerves and cool his liver and brain for a few hours of iron slumber. If the enterprise were as heroic and commanding as it is protracted and unwearied!
10a
Sounds 10a written: B rewritten: D

(Ronald Clapper)
Far through lonely woods which are unfrequented woods unfrequented woods unfrequented woods unfrequented woods unfrequented woods unfrequented woods on the confines of towns, where once only the hunter penetrated by day, in the darkest night dart these bright saloons without the knowledge of their inhabitants; stopping for a time this moment stopping this moment stopping this moment stopping this moment stopping this moment stopping this moment stopping at some brilliant station-house in town or city, where a social crowd is gathered this moment in the crowded and lighted depot, gathered, gathered, gathered, gathered, gathered, gathered, the next in the Dismal Swamp, scaring the owl and fox awaking waking the heroes & xxxxxxx boys fox. fox. fox. fox. fox. fox. 10b
Sounds 10b written: D

(Ronald Clapper)
The startings and arrivals of the cars are now the epochs in the village day. They come & go & come go and come go and come go and come go and come with such regularity and precision, and their whistle can be heard so far, that the farmers set their clocks by them, and thus one well conducted institution regulates a whole country. Have not men improved somewhat in punctuality since the railroad was invented? Do they not talk and think faster in the depot than they did in the stage-office? There is something electric electrifying electrifying electrifying electrifying electrifying in the atmosphere of the former place. Who has not I have I have I have I have I have been astonished at the miracles it has wrought; that some of his my my my my my neighbors, who, he would I should I should I should I should I should have prophesied, once for all, would never get to Boston by so prompt a conveyance, were on hand when the bell rang. To do things “railroad fashion” is now the by-word; and it is worth the while to be warned so often and so sincerely by any power to get off the its its its its its track. There is no stopping to read the riot act, no firing over the heads of the mob, with this earnest traveller. Here comes one whom it is of no use to expostulate with. Only to meet the car on the other track is like standing to have a tin cup shot off your head in this case in this case. in this case. in this case. in this case. 10c
Sounds 10c written: D rewritten: D
D: Sounds 10c was interlined in pencil. A fair copy was made on a partial leaf.

(Ronald Clapper)
We have constructed a fate, an , that never turns aside. (Let that be the name of your engine.) the public Men Men Men Men are advertised that at a certain hour and cannon balls will be fired toward almost every point minute minute minute minute these bolts will be shot toward particular points of the compass; yet it interferes with no man’s business, and the children quietly children children children children go to school on the other track. r
Revision note: D1:
We live the steadier for it.
We live the steadier for it. We live the steadier for it. We live the steadier for it. We live the steadier for it.
We are all educated thus to r
Revision note: D1: stand and have tin cans shot off our heads. Man avoids the bolts of fate by minding his own business affairs
stand and have tin cans shot off our heads be sons of Tell. Man avoids the bolts of fate by minding his own affairs
be sons of Tell. be sons of Tell. be sons of Tell. be sons of Tell.
The air is full of invisible bolts. The air is full of invisible bolts. The air is full of invisible bolts. The air is full of invisible bolts. r
Revision note: D1:
Every path but your own is the path of fate.
Every path but your own is the path of fate. Every path but your own is the path of fate. Every path but your own is the path of fate. Every path but your own is the path of fate.
Keep on your own track, then.
11a
Sounds 11a written: A rewritten: B, D

(Ronald Clapper)
After all What recommends commerce to me is after all After all What recommends commerce to me is after all After all What recommends commerce to me is after all After all what recommends commerce to me is What recommends commerce to me is What recommends commerce to me is What recommends commerce to me is What recommends commerce to me is its enterprise and bravery. It does not fold fold fold fold clasp clasp clasp clasp clasp its hands and pray to Jupiter. I see these men every day go about their business with more or less courage and content, doing more even even even even even than they suspect, and perchance better employed than they could have consciously devised. 11b
Sounds 11b written: B

(Ronald Clapper)
Yet I confess that I I I I I I I am less affected by their heroism who stood up for half an hour in the front line at Buena Vista, than by the steady and cheerful valor of the men who inhabit the snow-plough for their winter quarters; who have not merely the three-o’-clock in the morning courage, which Bonaparte thought was the rarest, but whose courage does not go to rest so early, who go to sleep only when the storm sleeps or the sinews of their iron steed are frozen. On this morning of the Great Snow, perchance, perchance, perchance, perchance, perchance, perchance, which is still raging and chilling men’s blood, I hear the muffled tone of their engine bell from out the fog bank of their chilled breath, which announces that the cars , without long delay, notwithstanding the veto of a New England north-east snow storm, and I I I I I I I behold the ploughmen covered with snow and rime, their heads peering, above the mould-board which is turning down other than daisies and the nests of field-mice, like bowlders of the Sierra Nevada, that occupy an outside place in the universe.
12
Sounds 12 written: B
F: “I feel more like a citizen of the world … advertised in the Cuttingsville Times” does not appear in the manuscript.

(Ronald Clapper)
Commerce is unexpectedly brave, confident & confident and confident and confident and confident and confident and confident and serene, alert, adventurous, and unwearied. It is very natural in its methods in its methods in its methods in its methods in its methods in its methods in its methods withal, far more so than many fantastic enterprises and sentimental experiments, and hence its singular success. I am refreshed and expanded when the freight train rattles past meon the railroad me, me, me, me, me, me, and I smell the stores which go dispensing their odors all the way from Long Wharf to the Ashuelot Lake Champlain, Lake Champlain, Lake Champlain, Lake Champlain, Lake Champlain, Lake Champlain, Lake Champlain, reminding me of foreign parts, of coral reefs, and Indian oceans, and tropical climes, and the extent of the globe. I feel more like a citizen of the world at the sight of the palm-leaf which will cover so many flaxen New England heads the next summer, the Manilla hemp and cocoa-nut husks, the old junk, gunny bags, scrap iron, and rusty nails. This car-load of torn sails is more legible and interesting now than if they should be wrought into paper and printed books. Who can write so graphically the history of the storms they have weathered as these rents have done? They are proof-sheets which need no correction. Here goes lumber from the Maine woods, which did not go out to sea in the last freshet, risen four dollars on the thousand because of what did go out or was split up; pine, spruce, cedar,—first, second, third and fourth qualities, so lately all of one quality, to wave over the bear, and moose, and caribou. Next rolls Thomaston lime, a prime lot, which will get far among the hills before it gets slacked. These rags in bales, of all hues and qualities, the lowest condition to which cotton and linen descend, the final result of dress,—of patterns which are now no longer cried up, unless it be in Milwaukie, as those splendid articles, English, French, or American prints, ginghams, muslins, &c., gathered from all quarters both of fashion and poverty, going to become paper of one color or a few shades only, on which forsooth will be written tales of real life, high and low, and founded on fact! This closed car smells of salt fish, the strong New England and commercial scent, reminding me of the Grand Banks and the fisheries. Who has not seen a salt fish, thoroughly cured for this world, so that nothing can spoil it, and putting the perseverance of the saints to the blush? with which you may sweep or pave the streets, and split your kindlings, and the teamster shelter himself and his lading against sun wind and rain behind it,— and the trader, as a Concord trader once did, hang it up by his door for a sign when he commences business, until at last his oldest customer cannot tell surely whether it be animal, vegetable, or mineral, and yet it shall be as pure as a snowflake, and if it be put into a pot and boiled, will come out an excellent dun fish for a Saturday’s dinner. Next Spanish hides, with the tails still preserving their twist and the angle of elevation they had when the oxen that wore them were careering over the pampas of the Spanish main,—a type of all obstinacy, and evincing how almost hopeless and incurable are all constitutional vices. I confess, that practically speaking, when I have learned a man’s real disposition, I have no hopes of changing it for the better or worse in this state of existence. As the Orientals say, “A cur’s tail may be warmed, and pressed, and bound round with ligatures, and after a twelve years’ labor bestowed upon it, still it will retain its natural form.” The only effectual cure for such inveteracies as these tails exhibit is to make glue of them, which I believe is what is usually done with them, and then they will stay put and stick. Here is a hogshead of molasses or of brandy directed to John Smith, Cuttingsville, Vermont, some trader among the Green Mountains, who imports for the farmers near his clearing, and now perchance stands over his bulk-head and thinks of the last arrivals on the coast, how they may affect the price for him, telling his customers this moment, as he has told them twenty times before this morning, that he expects some by the next train of prime quality. It is advertised in the Cuttingsville Times.
13
Sounds 13 written: F
F: “While these things go up … Of some great ammiral.” And hark!” does not appear in the manuscript.

(Ronald Clapper)
While these things go up other things come down. Warned by the whizzing sound, I look up from my book and see some tall pine, hewn on far northern hills, which has winged its way over the Green Mountains and the Connecticut, shot like an arrow through the township within ten minutes, and scarce another eye beholds it; going
 
“to be the mast
 
Of some great ammiral.”
And hark! here too comes the cattle-train from the other side here comes the cattle-train here comes the cattle-train bearing the cattle of a thousand hills, sheepcots, stables, and cow-yards in the air, drovers with their sticks, and shepherd boys in the midst of their flocks, all but the mountain pastures, whirled along like leaves blown from the mountains by the September gales. The air is filled with the bleating of calves and sheep, and the hustling of oxen, as if a pastoral valley were going by. When the old bell-wether at the head rattles his bell, the mountains do indeed skip like rams and the little hills like lambs. A car-load of drovers, too, in the midst, on a level with their droves now, their vocation gone, but still clinging to their useless sticks as their badge of office. But their dogs, where are they? It is a stampede to them; they are quite thrown out; they have lost the scent. Methinks I hear them barking behind the Peterboro’ Hills, or panting up the western slope of the Green Mountains. They will not be in at the death. Their vocation, too, is gone. Their fidelity and sagacity are below par now. They will slink back to their kennels in disgrace, or perchance run wild and strike a league with the wolf and the fox. So is your pastoral life whirled past and away. But the bell rings, and I must get off the track and let the cars go by;—
 
What’s the railroad to me?
 
I never go to see
 
Where it ends.
 
It fills a few hollows,
 
And makes banks for the swallows,
 
It sets the sand a-blowing,
 
And the blackberries a-growing,
but I cross it like a cart-path in the woods. I will not have my eyes put out & my ears spoiled by its smoke & steam & whistle I will not have my eyes put out and my ears spoiled by its smoke and steam and hissing. I will not have my eyes put out and my ears spoiled by its smoke and steam and hissing.
14
Sounds 14 written: B rewritten: F

(Ronald Clapper)
Now that the cars are gone by, and all the restless world with them, and the fishes in the pond no longer feel their rumbling, I am more alone than ever. And now that the cars are gone by and all the restless world with them, and even the fishes in the pond do not no longer feel their rumbling, I am more silent & alone than ever Now that the cars are gone by, and all the restless world with them, and the fishes in the pond no longer feel their rumbling, I am more alone than ever. Now that the cars are gone by, and all the restless world with them, and the fishes in the pond no longer feel their rumbling, I am more alone than ever. Now that the cars are gone by, and all the restless world with them, and the fishes in the pond no longer feel their rumbling, I am more alone than ever. Now that the cars are gone by, and all the restless world with them, and the fishes in the pond no longer feel their rumbling, I am more alone than ever. Now that the cars are gone by, and all the restless world with them, and the fishes in the pond no longer feel their rumbling, I am more alone than ever. Now that the cars are gone by, and all the restless world with them, and the fishes in the pond no longer feel their rumbling, I am more alone than ever. For the rest of the long summer afternoonperchance, for it was summer when I first heard the whistle afternoon, perhaps, afternoon, perhaps, afternoon, perhaps, afternoon, perhaps, afternoon, perhaps, afternoon, perhaps, my meditations are interrupted only by the occasional faint rattle and tinkle which mark the passage faint rattle faint rattle faint rattle faint rattle faint rattle faint rattle of a carriage or team along the distant highway.
15a
Sounds 15a written: A rewritten: E, F

(Ronald Clapper)
Sometimes, on Sundays, I heard the bells, the Lincoln, Acton, Bedford, or Concord bell, when the wind was favorable, a faint, sweet, and, as it were, natural melody, worth importing into the wilderness. 15b
Sounds 15b written: F

(Ronald Clapper)
At a great sufficient sufficient sufficient distance over the woods the sound of a bell this sound this sound this sound acquires a certain vibratory hum, as if the pine needles in the horizon were the strings of a harp which it sweptand is far more universal and memorable than its ringing near swept. swept. Just as the intervening atmosphere makes a distant ridge of earth itself interesting to our eyes by the azure tint it imparts to it. All sound heard at the greatest possible distance produces one & the same effect, a vibration of the strings of the universal lyre. Just as the intervening atmosphere makes a distant ridge of earth interesting to our eyes by the azure tint it imparts to it All sound heard at the greatest possible distance produces one and the same effect, a vibration of the universal lyre, just as the intervening atmosphere makes a distant ridge of earth interesting to our eyes by the azure tint it imparts to it. All sound heard at the greatest possible distance produces one and the same effect, a vibration of the universal lyre, just as the intervening atmosphere makes a distant ridge of earth interesting to our eyes by the azure tint it imparts to it. There came to me in this case a melody which the air had strained, and which had conversed with every leaf and needle of the wood, that portion of the sound which the elements had taken up and modulated and echoed from vale to vale. The echo is, to some extent, an original sound, and therein is the magic and charm of it. It is not merely a repetition of what was worth repeating in what was worth repeating in what was worth repeating in the bell, but partly the voice of the wood; the same trivial words and notes sung by a wood-nymph.
16
Sounds 16 written: E

(Ronald Clapper)
At evening, the distant lowing of some cow in the horizon beyond the woods sounded sweet and melodious, and at first I would mistake it for the voices of a minstrel some minstrels certain minstrels certain minstrels certain minstrels by whom I was sometimes serenaded, who might be straying over hill and dale; but soon I was not unpleasantly disappointed when it was prolonged into the cheap and natural music of the cow. I do not mean to be satirical, but to express my appreciation of that youth’s those youths’ those youths’ those youths’ those youths’ singing, when I state that I perceived clearly that it was akin to the music of the cow, and they were at length one articulation of Nature.
17
Sounds 17 written: B rewritten: E
B: “Regularly at half past seven, in one part of the summer, after” does not appear in the manuscript.

(Ronald Clapper)
Regularly at half-past seven, in one part of the summer, after the evening train had gone by, the whippoorwills chanted their vespers for half an hour, sitting on a stump by my door, or on upon upon upon upon upon upon upon the ridge pole of the house. of the house. of the house. of the house. of the house. of the house. of the house. or sometimes one circled round and round me, a few feet distant, in the woods, as if tethered by a string. I had a rare opportunity to become acquainted with their habits, for they were very familiar and were my never-failing visitors in summer evenings. Sometimes I have heard three or four singing at once in different parts of the wood, one a bar behind the other, as in a catch & they were so near that I not only heard the cluck after each note distinctly, but occasionally sometimes often a that loud and singular buzzing sound which I have not seen described, to be compared with nothing that I can think of, but that made by like a fly in a spider’s web, only proportionally louder or sometimes one circled round and round me, a few feet distant, in the woods, as if tethered by a string. I had a rare opportunity to become acquainted with their habits, for they were very familiar and were my never-failing visitors in summer evenings. Sometimes I have heard three or four singing at once in different parts of the wood, one a bar behind the other, as in a catch & they were so near that I not only heard the cluck after each note distinctly, but occasionally sometimes often a that loud and singular buzzing sound which I have not seen described, to be compared with nothing that I can think of, but that made by like a fly in a spider’s web, only proportionally louder or sometimes one circled round and round me, a few feet distant, in the woods, as if tethered by a string. I had a rare opportunity to become acquainted with their habits, for they were very familiar and were my never-failing visitors in summer evenings. Sometimes I have heard three or four singing at once in different parts of the wood, one a bar behind the other, as in a catch & they were so near that I not only heard the cluck after each note distinctly, but occasionally sometimes often a that loud and singular buzzing sound which I have not seen described, to be compared with nothing that I can think of, but that made by like a fly in a spider’s web, only proportionally louder or sometimes one circled around & round me in the woods a few feet distant as if tethered by a string They would begin to sing almost with as much regularity and precision as a clock, within five minutes of a particular hour referred to the setting of the sun every evening. I had a rare opportunity to become acquainted with their habits, for they were very familiar and were my never failing visitors in summer evenings. Sometimes I heard three or four singing at once in different parts of the wood, close by one a bar behind the other another and so near me that I not only heard not only the cluck after each note distinctly, but often that singular buzzing sound like a fly in a spider’s web, only proportionally louder. Sometimes one circled round and round me a few feet distant in the woods as if tethered by a string They would begin to sing almost with as much precision as a clock, within five minutes of a particular time, referred to the setting of the sun, every evening. I had a rare opportunity to become acquainted with their habits. Sometimes I heard four or five at once in different parts of the wood, by accident one a bar behind another, and so near me that I distinguished not only the cluck after each note, but often that singular buzzing sound like a fly in a spider’s web, only proportionally louder. Sometimes one would circle round and round me in the woods a few feet distant as if tethered by a string, when probably I was near its eggs. They would begin to sing almost with as much precision as a clock, within five minutes of a particular time, referred to the setting of the sun, every evening. I had a rare opportunity to become acquainted with their habits. Sometimes I heard four or five at once in different parts of the wood, by accident one a bar behind another, and so near me that I distinguished not only the cluck after each note, but often that singular buzzing sound like a fly in a spider’s web, only proportionally louder. Sometimes one would circle round and round me in the woods a few feet distant as if tethered by a string, when probably I was near its eggs. They would begin to sing almost with as much precision as a clock, within five minutes of a particular time, referred to the setting of the sun, every evening. I had a rare opportunity to become acquainted with their habits. Sometimes I heard four or five at once in different parts of the wood, by accident one a bar behind another, and so near me that I distinguished not only the cluck after each note, but often that singular buzzing sound like a fly in a spider’s web, only proportionally louder. Sometimes one would circle round and round me in the woods a few feet distant as if tethered by a string, when probably I was near its eggs. They also sang sang sang sang sang sang sang at intervals throughout the night, and were again as musical as ever just before and about and about and about and about and about and about and about dawn.
18
Sounds 18 written: A rewritten: B
A: “-r-r-r-n! sighs one on this side … from far in the Lincoln woods” does not appear in the manuscript but may have been contained on the missing leaf (#79) which follows.
A & B: Sounds 21 precedes Sounds 18.

(Ronald Clapper)
When other birds are still the screech screech screech screech screech screech screech screech owls take up the strain, like mourning women their ancient u-lu-lu. Their dismal scream is truly Ben Jonsonian. Wise midnight hags! It is no honest and blunt tu-whit tu-who of the poets, but, without jesting, a most solemn graveyard ditty, the mutual consolations of suicide lovers remembering the pangs and the delights of supernal love in the infernal groves. Yet I love to hear their wailing, their doleful responses, trilled along the wood-side, reminding me sometimes of music and singing birds; as if it were the dark and tearful side of music, the regrets and sighs that would fain be sung. They are the spirits, the low spirits and melancholy forebodings, of fallen souls that once in human shape night-walked the earth and did the deeds of darkness, now expiating their sins with their wailing hymns and or threnodies their sins their sins with their wailing hymns or threnodies their sins with their wailing hymns or threnodies their sins with their wailing hymns or threnodies their sins with their wailing hymns or threnodies their sins with their wailing hymns or threnodies their sins with their wailing hymns or threnodies their sins with their wailing hymns or threnodies in the scenery of their transgressions. They give me a new sense of the vastness and the mystery variety and capacity variety and capacity variety and capacity variety and capacity variety and capacity variety and capacity variety and capacity variety and capacity of that nature which is our common dwelling. sighs one on this side of the pond, and circles with the restlessness of despair to some new perch on the gray oaks. Then— echoes one another one another another another another another another another on the farther side with a tremulous a tremulous tremulous tremulous tremulous tremulous tremulous tremulous sincerity, and— comes faintly from far in the Lincoln woods.
19
Sounds 19 written: D
D: Sounds 19 and 20 were added on a leaf from B that had been taken into D.

(Ronald Clapper)
I was also serenaded by a hooting owl. Near at hand Near at hand Near at hand Near at hand Near at hand you could fancy it the most melancholy sound in Nature, as if it she she she she she meant by this to stereotype and make permanent in her choir the dying moans of a human being,—some poor weak relic of mortality who has left hope behind, and howls like an animal, yet with human sobs, on entering the dark valley, It reminded me of ghouls and idiots and insane howlings made more awful by a certain gurgling melodiousness,—I find myself beginning with the letters gl when I try to imitate it,—suggesting a mind which has reached the gelatinous and mildewy stage in the mortification of all healthy and courageous thought It reminded me of ghouls and idiots and insane howlings made more awful by a certain gurgling melodiousness,—I find myself beginning with the letters gl when I try to imitate it,—expressive of a mind which has reached the gelatinous, mildewy stage in the mortification of all healthy and courageous thought. It reminded me of ghouls and idiots and insane howlings. made more awful by a certain gurgling melodiousness,—I find myself beginning with the letters gl when I try to imitate it,—expressive of a mind which has reached the gelatinous, mildewy stage in the mortification of all healthy and courageous thought. It reminded me of ghouls and idiots and insane howlings. made more awful by a certain gurgling melodiousness,—I find myself beginning with the letters gl when I try to imitate it,—expressive of a mind which has reached the gelatinous, mildewy stage in the mortification of all healthy and courageous thought. It reminded me of ghouls and idiots and insane howlings. made more awful by a certain gurgling melodiousness,—I find myself beginning with the letters gl when I try to imitate it,—expressive of a mind which has reached the gelatinous, mildewy stage in the mortification of all healthy and courageous thought. It reminded me of ghouls and idiots and insane howlings. But now one answers from far woods in a strain made really sweet melodious melodious melodious melodious melodious by distance,— Hoo hoo hoo, hooer hoo; Hoo hoo hoo, hoorer hoo: Hoo hoo hoo, hoorer hoo: Hoo hoo hoo, hoorer hoo: Hoo hoo hoo, hoorer hoo: and indeed for the most part it suggested only pleasing associations, whether heard by day or night, by day or night, by day or night, by day or night, summer or winter.
20
Sounds 20 written: D

(Ronald Clapper)
I rejoice that there are owls. Let them do the idiotic and maniacal hooting for men. They suggest a vast and undeveloped nature which men have not recognized. It is a sound admirably suited to swamps and twilight woods which no day illustrates suggesting a vast and undeveloped nature which men have not recognized. It is a sound admirably suited to swamps and twilight woods which no day illustrates, suggesting a vast and undeveloped nature which men have not recognized. It is a sound admirably suited to swamps and twilight woods which no day illustrates, suggesting a vast and undeveloped nature which men have not recognized. It is a sound admirably suited to swamps and twilight woods which no day illustrates, suggesting a vast and undeveloped nature which men have not recognized. It is a sound admirably suited to swamps and twilight woods which no day illustrates, suggesting a vast and undeveloped nature which men have not recognized. They represent the stark twilight and unsatisfied thoughts which I have. all have. all have. all have. all have. All day the sun has shone on the surface of this some some some some some savage swamp, where the double spruce stands festooned hung hung hung hung with usnea lichens, and the hawk circulates small hawks circulate above, small hawks circulate above, small hawks circulate above, small hawks circulate above, and the chickadee lisps amid the evergreens, and the partridge and rabbit skulks skulk skulk skulk skulk skulk beneath; but now a more dismal arid fitting day dawns, and a different race of creatures awakes to express the meaning of Nature there.
21
Sounds 21 written: A rewritten: B
A: “Late in the evening I heard … saturation and waterloggedness and distention. The most” does not appear in the manuscript in A but may have been contained on the missing leaves (#73-75) which precede.
A & B: Sounds 21 follows Bean-Field 7 and precedes Sounds 18.

(Ronald Clapper)
Late in the evening I heard the distant far off distant distant far off distant distant distant distant distant distant distant rumbling of wagons over bridges,—a sound heard farther than almost any other at night,—the baying of dogs, and sometimes still again the lowing of cattle in distant yards some disconsolate cow in a distant barnyard. And then the still again the lowing of cattle in distant yards some disconsolate cow in a distant barnyard. And then the again the lowing of some disconsolate cow in a distant barn-yard. In the mean while all the shore rang with the trump of again the lowing of some disconsolate cow in a distant barn-yard. In the mean while all the shore rang with the trump of again the lowing of some disconsolate cow in a distant barn-yard. In the mean while all the shore rang with the trump of again the lowing of some disconsolate cow in a distant barn-yard. In the mean while all the shore rang with the trump of again the lowing of some disconsolate cow in a distant barn-yard. In the mean while all the shore rang with the trump of again the lowing of some disconsolate cow in a distant barn-yard. In the mean while all the shore rang with the trump of bullfrogs, the sturdy spirits of ancient wine-bibbers and wassailers, still unrepentant, trying to sing a catch in their Stygian lake,— if the Walden nymphs will pardon the comparison for though there were almost no weeds there were frogs in the pond, if the Walden nymphs will pardon the comparison for though there were almost no weeds there were frogs in the pond, if the Walden nymphs will pardon the comparison, for though there are almost no weeds, there are frogs there, if the Walden nymphs will pardon the comparison, for though there are almost no weeds, there are frogs there, if the Walden nymphs will pardon the comparison, for though there are almost no weeds, there are frogs there, if the Walden nymphs will pardon the comparison, for though there are almost no weeds, there are frogs there, if the Walden nymphs will pardon the comparison, for though there are almost no weeds, there are frogs there, if the Walden nymphs will pardon the comparison, for though there are almost no weeds, there are frogs there, —who would fain keep up the hilarious rules of their old festal tables, though their voices have waxed hoarse and solemnly grave, mocking at mirth, and the wine has lost its flavor, and become only liquor to distend their paunches, and sweet intoxication never comes to drown the memory of the past, but mere saturation and waterloggedness and distention. The most aldermanic, with his chin upon a pad heart-leaf, heart-leaf, heart-leaf, heart-leaf, heart-leaf, heart-leaf, heart-leaf, which serves for a napkin to his drooling chaps, under this northern shore quaffs a deep draught of the once scorned water, and passes round the cup with the ejaculation and straightway comes over the water from some distant cove the same password repeated, where the next in seniority and girth has gulped down to his mark; and when this observance has made the circuit of the shores, then ejaculates the master of ceremonies, with satisfaction, and each in his turn repeats the same down to the least distended, leakiest, and flabbiest paunched, that there be no mistake; and then the bowl goes round again and again, until the sun disperses the morning mist, and only the patriarch is not under the pond, but vainly bellowing from time to time, and pausing for a reply.
22
Sounds 22 written: A rewritten: B
A: “I am not sure that I ever heard … their native songsters” does not appear in the manuscript but may have been contained on the missing leaves (#61-67) which precede.
A & B: Sounds 22 precedes Sounds 15a.

(Ronald Clapper)
The sound of cock crowing I never heard the sound of cock crowing The sound of cock crowing I never heard the sound of cock crowing I am not sure that I ever heard the sound of cock-crowing I am not sure that I ever heard the sound of cock-crowing I am not sure that I ever heard the sound of cock-crowing I am not sure that I ever heard the sound of cock-crowing I am not sure that I ever heard the sound of cock-crowing I am not sure that I ever heard the sound of cock-crowing from my clearing, and I thought that that that that that that that that it might be worth the while to keep a rooster cockerel rooster cockerel cockerel cockerel cockerel cockerel cockerel cockerel for his music merely, and merely, and merely, merely, merely, merely, merely, merely, as a singing bird. The note of this once wild Indian pheasant is certainly the most remarkable of any bird’s, and if they could be naturalized without being domesticated, it would soon become the most famous sound in our woods, surpassing the clangor of the goose and the hooting of the owl; and then imagine the cackling of the hens to fill the pauses when their lords’ clarions rested! No wonder that man added this bird to his tame stock,—to say nothing of the eggs and drumsticks. To walk in a winter morning in a wood where these birds abounded, their native woods, and hear the wild cockerels crow on the trees, clear and shrill for miles over the resounding earth, drowning the feebler notes of other birds,—think of it! It would put nations on the alert. Who would not be early to rise, and rise earlier and earlier each every each every every every every every every every successive day of his life, till he became unspeakably healthy, wealthy, and wise? This foreign bird’s note is remembered and celebrated by the English poets of all countries along with the native sky-lark and the nightingale notes of their native songsters.But this faint clarion did not penetrate my woods remembered and celebrated by the English poets of all countries along with the native sky-lark and the nightingale notes of their native songsters.But this faint clarion did not penetrate my woods celebrated by the poets of all countries along with the notes of their native songsters. celebrated by the poets of all countries along with the notes of their native songsters. celebrated by the poets of all countries along with the notes of their native songsters. celebrated by the poets of all countries along with the notes of their native songsters. celebrated by the poets of all countries along with the notes of their native songsters. celebrated by the poets of all countries along with the notes of their native songsters. n
Note: The following passage begins on a leaf in B, which apparently was a fair copy of material in the missing leaves of A; the passage continues on a leaf in A (R. Clapper)
When I kept hens once in the village before I went to the woods, there was one white rooster cockerel rooster I remember in one of the broods which I reared that went much by himself, a pensive stately-paced young cockerel, that still had a good deal of the pheasant in him. One night he was by chance shut out of the hen-yard, and after long reconnoitering and anxious n
Note: end of B leaf and beginning of A leaf (R. Clapper)
going & coming—with brave thoughts exaling him—and fancies rushing thick upon him—crowing long memoriter wise of his Indian origin & wild descent—he flew like a bird up into the branches of a tree, and went to roost there.—And I who had witnessed this passage in his private history immediately wrote these verses, & inscribed them to him.
 
Poor bird! destined to lead thy life
 
Far in the adventurous west,
 
And here to be debarred to-night
 
From thy accustomed nest;
 
Must thou fall back upon old instinct now,—
 
Well nigh extinct under man’s fickle care?
 
Did Heaven bestow its quenchless inner light
 
So long ago, for thy small want to-night?
 
Why stand’st upon thy toes to crow so late?
 
The moon is deaf to thy low feathered fate;
 
Or dost thou think so to possess the night,
 
And people the drear dark with thy brave sprite?
 
And now with anxious eye thou look’st about,
 
While the relentless shade draws on its veil,
 
For some sure shelter from approaching dews,
 
And the insidious steps of nightly foes.
 
I fear imprisonment has dulled thy wit,
 
Or ingrained servitude extinguished it.
 
But no,—dim memory of the days of yore,
 
By Brahmapootra & the Jumna’s shore,
 
Where thy proud race flew swiftly o’er the heath,
 
And sought its food the jungle’s shade beneath,—
 
Has taught thy wings to seek yon friendly trees,
 
As erst by Indus’ banks & far Ganges.
I am perhaps the only inhabitant of the town or of the state who does not hear the cock crow
n
Note: The following passage begins on a leaf in B, which apparently was a fair copy of material in the missing leaves of A; the passage continues on a leaf in A (R. Clapper)
I am was perhaps the only inhabitant of the town Concord or of the state who does did not hear the cock crow
All climates agree with brave Chanticleer. He is more indigenous even than the natives. His health is ever good, his lungs are sound, his spirits never flag All climates agree with brave Chanticleer. He is more indigenous even than the natives. His health is ever good, his lungs are sound, his spirits never flag All climates agree with brave Chanticleer. He is more indigenous even than the natives. His health is ever good, his lungs are sound, his spirits never flag All climates agree with brave Chanticleer. He is more indigenous even than the natives. His health is ever good, his lungs are sound, his spirits never flag All climates agree with brave Chanticleer. He is more indigenous even than the natives. His health is ever good, his lungs are sound, his spirits never flag All climates agree with brave Chanticleer. He is more indigenous even than the natives. His health is ever good, his lungs are sound, his spirits never flag
Even the sailor on the Atlantic and Pacific is awakened by this familiar sound this familiar sound his voice; but its shrill sound never roused me from my slumbers. his voice; but its shrill sound never roused me from my slumbers. his voice; but its shrill sound never roused me from my slumbers. his voice; but its shrill sound never roused me from my slumbers. his voice; but its shrill sound never roused me from my slumbers. his voice; but its shrill sound never roused me from my slumbers. I keep kept kept kept kept kept kept kept kept neither dog, cat, cow, pig, nor hens, so that you would have said so that you would have said so that you would have said so that you would have said so that you would have said so that you would have said so that you would have said there is was was was was was was was was a deficiency of domestic sounds; neither the churn, nor the spinning wheel, nor even the singing of the kettle, nor the hissing of the urn, nor children crying, to comfort one. An old-fashioned man would have lost his senses and and or or or or or or or died of ennui before this. before this. before this. before this. before this. before this. before this. before this. Not even rats in the wall, for they were starved out, but but or rather were never baited in, or rather were never baited in, or rather were never baited in, or rather were never baited in, or rather were never baited in, or rather were never baited in, —only squirrels on the roof and under the floor, a whippoorwill on the ridge pole, a blue-jay screaming in the yard beneath the window, beneath the window, beneath the window, beneath the window, beneath the window, beneath the window, beneath the window, a hare or woodchuck under the house, a screech-owl or a cat-owl behind it, a flock of wild geese or a laughing loon in in on on on on on on on the pond, and and and and and and and and a fox to bark in the night. But not Not Not Not Not Not Not Not even a lark or an oriole, those mild plantation birds, ever visit visited visited visited visited visited visited visited visited my clearing. No cockerels to crow nor hens to cackle in the yard. No yard! but unfenced Nature reaching up to your very sills. A young forest growing up under your windows, and wild sumachs and blackberry vines breaking through into your cellar; sturdy pitch-pines rubbing and creaking against the shingles for want of room, their roots reaching quite under the house. Instead of a scuttle or a blind blown off in the gale,—a pine tree snapped off or torn up by the roots behind your house for fuel. Instead of no path to the front-yard gate in the Great Snow,—no gate,—no front-yard,—and no path to the civilized world!
XVersion
Sounds Sounds Sounds Sounds Sounds
1
Sounds 1 written: A rewritten: D
A: “The rays which stream … walk on into futurity” is interlined.

(Ronald Clapper)
Yet after all, while we are confined to books though the most select & classic and study only particular written languages which are themselves but dialects or provincialisms, we are apt to forget the language, or rather the expression, which all things every where, morning & evening and all events speak—which only is copious, for the tongue is only an accidental organ of speech even of this written language which it has helped to establish serving equally the palate, and speech itself is partial, uttering and still lips were the methods which it had established necessary or sufficient for the silent expression of truth by instilling us. For both speech and writing are partial, utters but a small part of the meaning with which the silence is fraught.—I mean here the language which things speak originally and without metaphor—such as the life of a man hears rather than his ears & his instincts speak—rather than his tongue and at length through all his actions or his life he learns to mutter. With a more copious hearing or understanding of what is published, the views ever fresh which the breezes of heaven waft to us, and all things exhale the present languages and all that they express or can express will be forgotten Yet after all, while we are confined to books though the most select & classic and study only particular written languages which are themselves but dialects or provincialisms, we are apt to forget the language, or rather the expression, which all things every where, morning & evening and all events speak—which only is copious, for the tongue is only an accidental organ of speech even of this written language which it has helped to establish serving equally the palate, and speech itself is partial, uttering and still lips were the methods which it had established necessary or sufficient for the silent expression of truth by instilling us. For both speech and writing are partial, utters but a small part of the meaning with which the silence is fraught.—I mean here the language which things speak originally and without metaphor—such as the life of a man hears rather than his ears & his instincts speak—rather than his tongue and at length through all his actions or his life he learns to mutter. With a more copious hearing or understanding of what is published, the views ever fresh which the breezes of heaven waft to us, and all things exhale the present languages and all that they express or can express will be forgotten Yet after all, while we are confined to books though the most select & classic and study only particular written languages which are themselves but dialects or provincialisms, we are apt to forget the language, or rather the expression, which all things every where, morning & evening and all events speak—which only is copious, for the tongue is only an accidental organ of speech even of this written language which it has helped to establish serving equally the palate, and speech itself is partial, uttering and still lips were the methods which it had established necessary or sufficient for the silent expression of truth by instilling us. For both speech and writing are partial, utters but a small part of the meaning with which the silence is fraught.—I mean here the language which things speak originally and without metaphor—such as the life of a man hears rather than his ears & his instincts speak—rather than his tongue and at length through all his actions or his life he learns to mutter. With a more copious hearing or understanding of what is published, the views ever fresh which the breezes of heaven waft to us, and all things exhale the present languages and all that they express or can express will be forgotten But while we are confined to books, though the most select and classic, and read only particular written languages which are themselves but dialects and provincial, we are in danger of forgetting the language which all things and events, beast bird and flower, morning and evening— speak originally and without metaphor, which only alone is copious and standard, and an adequate expression of the meaning with which the universe is fraught; the language which the soul of a man hears rather than his ears, or understanding and his divine instincts speak rather than his tongue. With a more copious hearing or understanding of what is published, the views ever fresh which the breezes waft to us, the present languages and all that they express or can express will be forgotten BUT while we are confined to books, though the most select and classic, and read only particular written languages, which are themselves but dialects and provincial, we are in danger of forgetting the language which all things and events speak without metaphor, which alone is copious and standard. Much is published, but little printed. BUT while we are confined to books, though the most select and classic, and read only particular written languages, which are themselves but dialects and provincial, we are in danger of forgetting the language which all things and events speak without metaphor, which alone is copious and standard. Much is published, but little printed. BUT while we are confined to books, though the most select and classic, and read only particular written languages, which are themselves but dialects and provincial, we are in danger of forgetting the language which all things and events speak without metaphor, which alone is copious and standard. Much is published, but little printed. BUT while we are confined to books, though the most select and classic, and read only particular written languages, which are themselves but dialects and provincial, we are in danger of forgetting the language which all things and events speak without metaphor, which alone is copious and standard. Much is published, but little printed. The rays which streamed streamed streamed streamed stream stream stream stream through the crevices crevices crevices crevices shutter shutter shutter shutter shutter will be no longer remembered when the shadow shadow shadow shadow shutter shutter shutter shutter shutter is wholly removed. No method nor discipline can supersede the necessity of being forever on the alert. What is a course of history, or philosophy, or poetry, or poetry, or poetry, or poetry, or poetry, or poetry, or poetry, no matter how well selected, or the best society, or the most admirable routine of life, compared with the discipline of seeing always looking always at looking always at looking always at looking always at looking always at looking always at looking always at what is to be seen? Will you be a reader, a student merely, or a seer? Read your fate, see what is before you, and walk on into futurity.
2a
Sounds 2a written: A rewritten: B, D

(Ronald Clapper)
I did not read books the first summer; rather I hoed rather I hoed rather I hoed rather I hoed I hoed I hoed I hoed I hoed beans. Nay, I often did better than this. There were times when I could not afford to sacrifice rub off sacrifice sacrifice rub off sacrifice sacrifice rub off sacrifice sacrifice rub off sacrifice sacrifice sacrifice sacrifice sacrifice the bloom of the present moment to with to to with to to with to to with to to to to to any work, whether of the head or hands. I loved love loved love loved love loved love love love love love a broad margin to my life. 2b
Sounds 2b written: A rewritten: B, F
A & B: “My days were not days of the week … overhead for the passing day” does not appear in the manuscript.
B: A fair copy was made of only “Sometimes, in a summer morning … I was reminded of the lapse of time” and “some work of mine … should not have been found wanting”.

(Ronald Clapper)
Sometimes, in a spring morning when the season of work was past or had not yet arrived or later in the summer when it was already past having performed my accustomed ablutions spring morning when the season of work had not yet arrived, or later in the summer when it was already passed, having performed my accustomed ablutions spring morning when the season of work had not yet arrived, or later in the summer when it was already passed, having performed my accustomed ablutions spring morning when the season of work had not yet arrived, or later in the summer when it was already passed, having performed my accustomed ablutions spring morning when the season of work had not yet arrived, or later in the summer when it was already passed, having performed my accustomed ablutions summer morning, having performed my accustomed ablutions taken my accustomed bath summer morning, having taken my accustomed bath, summer morning, having taken my accustomed bath, I sat in my sunny doorway from the earliest dawn earliest dawn earliest dawn earliest dawn earliest dawn earliest dawn sunrise till noon sunrise till noon, sunrise till noon, rapt in a revery, amid amid amidst amidst amidst amidst amidst amidst the pines and hickories and sumachs, in undisturbed solitude and stillness, in undisturbed solitude and stillness, in undisturbed solitude and stillness, in undisturbed solitude and stillness, in undisturbed solitude and stillness, in undisturbed solitude and stillness, while the birds sang around and and or or or or or or or flitted noiseless through the house over my head and out at the open window— otherwise in undisputed solitude & stillness, except perchance when a bough fell like a fan to the ground broken by its own weight, in my sumach grove, when the atmosphere was filled with perfume and incense, and every sound was the key to unheard harmonies, until by the sun’s rays through the house, over my head and out the open window, otherwise in undisturbed solitude and stillness, except perchance when a bough fell to the ground, broken by its own weight in my sumach grove,—when the atmosphere was filled with perfume and every sound was the key to unheard harmonies, until by the sun’s rays through the house, until by the sun through the house, until by the sun through the house, until by the sun through the house, until by the sun through the house, until by the sun through the house, until by the sun falling in at my west window, or the noise of some traveller traveller’s wagon traveller’s wagon traveller’s wagon traveller’s wagon traveller’s wagon traveller’s wagon traveller’s wagon on the distant highway, I was reminded of the lapse of time. I am sensible that I waxed and grew in these intervals as corn grows am sensible that I waxed and grew in these intervals as corn grows am sensible that I waxed and grew in these intervals as corn grows am sensible that I waxed and grew in these intervals as corn grows am sensible that I waxed and grew in these intervals as corn grows am sensible that I grew in those seasons like corn grew in those seasons like corn grew in those seasons like corn in the night, and they were far better than any work of the hands would have been. would have been. would have been. would have been. would have been. would have been. would have been. They were not so much time subtracted from my life, but so much over & above the my usual allowance —little intervals during which I journeyed and anticipated other states of existence They were not time subtracted from my life, but so much over and above my usual allowance. They were not time subtracted from my life, but so much over and above my usual allowance. I realized what the Oriental philosophers Orientals meant Oriental philosophers Orientals meant Oriental philosophers Orientals meant Oriental philosophers Orientals meant Oriental philosophers Orientals meant Orientals meant Orientals mean Orientals mean by contemplation and the forsaking of works. For the most part, indeed I knew indeed I knew indeed I knew indeed I knew indeed I knew indeed in short I minded I minded I minded not how the hours went. I was accustomed to say to myself—certainly I am not living that heroic life I had dreamed of, and yet all my veins are full of life, and nature whispers no reproach went. went. went. went. went. went. went. The day advanced as if to light some work of mine—and I defer to other men others in my thought, as if there were somewhere busier men mine—and I defer to others in my thought, as if there were somewhere busier men mine; mine; mine; mine; mine; mine; it was morning, and lo, now it is evening, and nothing memorable is accomplished. Yet my nature is was almost content with this. What are these pines & these birds about? What is this pond a-doing? I must know a little more and be forever ready accomplished. Yet my nature was almost content with this. What are these pines & these birds about? What is this pond a-doing? I must know a little more and be forever ready accomplished. accomplished. accomplished. accomplished. accomplished. accomplished. Instead of singing like the birds, I sometimes silently smile sometimes silently smile silently smiled silently smiled silently smiled silently smiled silently smiled silently smiled silently smiled at my incessant good fortune. As the field sparrow has tree sparrow has sparrow had sparrow had sparrow had sparrow had sparrow had sparrow had its trill, sitting on the hickory before my door, so has has had had had had had had I my chuckle or suppressed warble which he may may might might might might might might might hear out of my nest. I lived in more primitive and absolute time than before. My I lived in more primitive and absolute time than before. My I lived in more primitive and absolute time than before. My I lived in more primitive and absolute time than before. My I lived in more primitive and absolute time than before. My I lived in more primitive and absolute time than before. My My My days were not days of the week, bearing the stamp of any heathen deity, bearing the stamp of any heathen deity, nor were they minced into hours and fretted by the ticking of a clock; My life in this respect was like that of for I lived like My life in this respect was like that of for I lived like My life in this respect was like that of for I lived like My life in this respect was like that of for I lived like My life in this respect was like that of for I lived like My life in this respect was like that of for I lived like for I lived like for I lived like the Puri Indians, of whom it is said that “for yesterday, to-day, and to-morrow they have only one word, and they express the variety of meaning by pointing backward for yesterday, forward for to-morrow, and overhead for the passing day.” I don’t know that I bear any flowers or fruits. Methinks if the birds & flowers try me by their standard I shall not be found wanting, but men try one another not so. Man is still like a plant, and his satisfactions are like those of a vegetable. His rarest life is least his own. At such an hour I am not the worker but the work. The elements are working their will with me I don’t know that I bear any flowers or fruits. Yet methinks if the birds and flowers try me by their standard I shall not be found wanting, but men try one another not so. At such an hour, I am not the worker but the work. The elements are working their will with me This was sheer idleness to my fellow-townsmen, no doubt; but if the birds and flowers had tried me by their standard, I should not have been found wanting. This was sheer idleness to my fellow-townsmen, no doubt; but if the birds and flowers had tried me by their standard, I should not have been found wanting. This was sheer idleness to my fellow-townsmen, no doubt; but if the birds and flowers had tried me by their standard, I should not have been found wanting. This was sheer idleness to my fellow-townsmen, no doubt; but if the birds and flowers had tried me by their standard, I should not have been found wanting. This was sheer idleness to my fellow-townsmen, no doubt; but if the birds and flowers had tried me by their standard, I should not have been found wanting. This was sheer idleness to my fellow-townsmen, no doubt; but if the birds and flowers had tried me by their standard, I should not have been found wanting. 2c
Sounds 2c written: A rewritten: B, F
A & B: Sounds 2c follows Sounds 3
A: Sounds 2c is followed by Where I Lived, and What I Lived For 21b.

(Ronald Clapper)
A man must find his own his his his his his his his occasions in himself, it is true. it is true. it is true. it is true. it is true. it is true. The natural day is very calm, and will hardly reprove his indolence. If there was When there is no elevation in our spirits my spirit the pond would does not seem elevated like a mountain tarn, but a low pool, a silent muddy water & place for fishermen indolence. Where there is was no elevation of my spirit the pond does did not seem elevated like a mountain tarn, but a low pool, a silent muddy water & place for fishermen. indolence. Where there is was no elevation of my spirit the pond does did not seem elevated like a mountain tarn, but a low pool, a silent muddy water & place for fishermen. indolence. Where there is was no elevation of my spirit the pond does did not seem elevated like a mountain tarn, but a low pool, a silent muddy water & place for fishermen. indolence. Where there is was no elevation of my spirit the pond does did not seem elevated like a mountain tarn, but a low pool, a silent muddy water & place for fishermen. indolence. Where there is was no elevation of my spirit the pond does did not seem elevated like a mountain tarn, but a low pool, a silent muddy water and place for fishermen. I am glad to remember as I sit by my door that I too am a remote descendant at least of a heroic race of men of whom there is tradition, in one sense a fellow wanderer and survivor of Ulysses, for instance. My life passes amid the pines of New England. The pitch pine grows before my door unlike any symbol or glyphic I have seen painted. Where are the heroes whose exploits shall appear to posterity sculptured on monuments amid such natural forms as these? As we see heroes and demigods amid the lotuses and palms of the east. Where are the new Americans whose forms shall be sculpted on the Reed Pipe-stone Quarry? indolence. indolence.
3
Sounds 3 written: A rewritten: B
A & B: Sounds 3 follows Sounds 2b and precedes Sounds 2c.

(Ronald Clapper)
I seemed to have seemed to have had had had had had had had this advantage, at least, in my mode of life, over those who were obliged to look abroad for amusement, to theaters and society theaters and to society society and to the theatre society and the theatre, society and the theatre, society and the theatre, society and the theatre, society and the theatre, society and the theatre, that my life itself was become become become become become become become become my amusement and never ceased to be novel. It was a drama of many scenes which would never and without an and without an and without an and without an and without an and without an and without an and without an end. If we were always indeed getting our living, and regulating our lives according to the last and divinest divinest best best best best best best best mode we had learned, we should never be weary of living troubled with ennui troubled with ennui. troubled with ennui. troubled with ennui. troubled with ennui. troubled with ennui. troubled with ennui. troubled with ennui. Follow your genius closely enough, and it will not fail to show you a fresh prospect every hour. Housework was a pleasant pastime. When my floor was dirty, I rose early, and, setting all my furniture out of doors on the grass, bed and bedstead making but one budget, bed and bedstead making but one budget, bed and bedstead making but one budget, bed and bedstead making but one budget, bed and bedstead making but one budget, bed and bedstead making but one budget, bed and bedstead making but one budget, bed and bedstead making but one budget, dashed water upon on on on on on on on the floor, and sprinkled white sand from the pond upon on on on on on on on on it, and then with a broom scrubbed it clean and white; and by the time the villagers had broken their fast the morning sun had dried my house sufficiently to allow me to move in again, and my meditations were almost uninterrupted—If any should choose to see my manuscripts I trust that none of my hearers they will not be so charitable as to look into my house now—after hearing reading this, at the end of an unusually dirty winter, with critical housewife’s eyes, for I intend to celebrate the first bright and unquestionable spring morning by scrubbing my house with sand until it is as white as a lily—or, at any rate, as the washer-woman said of her clothes, as white as a “wiolet” uninterrupted. uninterrupted. uninterrupted. uninterrupted. uninterrupted. uninterrupted. uninterrupted. It was pleasant to see my whole household effects out on the grass, making a little pile like a gypsy’s pack, and my three-legged table, from which I did not remove the books and pen and ink, standing amid the pines and hickories. They seemed glad to get out themselves, and as if unwilling to be brought in. I was sometimes tempted to stretch an awning over them and take my seat there. It was worth the while to see the sun shine on these things, and hear hear hear hear hear hear hear hear the free wind blow upon on on on on on on on on them; so much more beautiful any beautiful thing looks beautiful any beautiful thing looks interesting most familiar objects look interesting most familiar objects look interesting most familiar objects look interesting most familiar objects look interesting most familiar objects look interesting most familiar objects look interesting most familiar objects look out of doors than in the house. A bird sits on the next bough, life-everlasting grows under the table, and blackberry vines run round its legs; pine cones, chestnut burs, and strawberry leaves are strewn about. It looked as if this was the way these forms came to be transferred to our furniture, to tables, chairs, and bedsteads,—because they once stood in their midst.
4a
Sounds 4a written: A rewritten: B

(Ronald Clapper)
My house was on the side of a hill, immediately on the edge of the larger wood, in the midst of a young forest of pitch pines and hickories, and half a dozen rods from the pond, to which a narrow footpath led down the hill. In my front yard grow grew the black-berry and strawberry & the grew the blackberry strawberry strawberry blackberry and grew the strawberry, blackberry, and grew the strawberry, blackberry, and grew the strawberry, blackberry, and grew the strawberry, blackberry, and grew the strawberry, blackberry, and grew the strawberry, blackberry, and life-everlasting, johnswort and golden-rod, & shruboak shrub-oaks shrub-oaks shrub-oaks shrub-oaks shrub-oaks shrub-oaks shrub-oaks and sand-cherry, & blueberry blueberry blueberry blueberry blueberry blueberry blueberry blueberry and ground-nut. 4b
Sounds 4b written: D
D: Sounds 4b was added to the manuscript on a partial leaf.

(Ronald Clapper)
Near the end of May, the sand-cherry, prunus depruna Cerasus pumila Cerasus pumila, Cerasus pumila, Cerasus pumila, Cerasus pumila, adorned the sides of the path adorned the sides of the path adorned the sides of the path adorned the sides of the path with its delicate flowers arranged in umbels cylindrically about its short stems, which last, in the fall, weighed down with good sized and handsome cherries, fell over in wreaths like rays on every side. I tasted them out of compliment to Nature, though they were scarcely palatable. 4c
Sounds 4c written: A rewritten: B

(Ronald Clapper)
The sumachs sumachs Rhus glabra sumach,, sumach,, sumach,, sumach,, sumach,, sumach,, grew luxuriantly about my my the the the the the the house, pushing up through the embankment which which which which which which which I had made, and growing five or six feet the first season. Its broad pinnate tropical leaf was pleasant though strange though strange though strange though strange though strange though strange though strange though strange to look upon. upon on. on. on. on. on. on. on. The large buds, suddenly pushing out late in the spring late in the spring late in the spring late in the spring late in the spring late in the spring late in the spring late in the spring from dry and brittle dry and brittle dry dry dry dry dry dry sticks which had seemed to be to be to be to be to be to be to be to be dead, developed themselves as it were as it were as as as as as as by magic into graceful green and tender boughs, an inch in diameter; and sometimes, as I sat at my window, so heedlessly did they grow and tax their brittle stems, brittle stems, weak joints, weak joints, weak joints, weak joints, weak joints, weak joints, I heard a fresh and green tender tender tender tender tender tender tender tender bough suddenly fall like a fan like a fan like a fan like a fan like a fan like a fan like a fan like a fan to the ground, when there was not a breath of air, broken off at its foot air stirring, broken off at its foot air stirring, broken off air stirring, broken off air stirring, broken off air stirring, broken off air stirring, broken off air stirring, broken off by its own weight. In the fall the fall August August, August, August, August, August, August, the large masses of red berries, berries, berries, berries, berries, berries, berries, berries, which, when in flower, had attracted many wild bees,to my house bees, bees, bees, bees, bees, bees, bees, gradually assumed their bright scarlet and velvety crimson and velvety velvety crimson velvety crimson velvety crimson velvety crimson velvety crimson velvety crimson hue, and by their weight again bent down and broke the tender limbs.
5
Sounds 5 written: A rewritten: E
A: “I doubt if there is such a place … its soothing sound is—Concord” does not appear in the manuscript.
E: The title “Railroad” appears in pencil at the top of the leaf

(Ronald Clapper)
As I sit at my window this summer afternoon, like a priest of Isis and observe the phenomena of 3000 years ago still unimpaired. The sacred afternoon, afternoon, afternoon, afternoon, afternoon, afternoon, afternoon, hawks are circling about this temple my clearing; my clearing; my clearing; my clearing; my clearing; my clearing; my clearing; the tantivy of wild pigeons an ancient race of birds pigeons an ancient race of birds pigeons an ancient race of birds pigeons an ancient race of birds pigeons, an ancient race of birds pigeons, pigeons, pigeons, flying by two and threes athwart my view, or perching restless on the white-pine boughs behind my house, gives a voice to the air; a fishhawk dimples the glassy surface of the pond and brings up a fish; a muskrat mink mink mink mink mink mink mink steals out of the marsh before my door and seizes a frog in the pond by the shore; by the shore; by the shore; by the shore; by the shore; by the shore; by the shore; the sedge is bending under the weight of the reed-birds flitting here and there hither and thither; hither and thither; hither and thither; hither and thither; hither and thither; hither and thither; hither and thither; and for the last half hour I have heard the rattle of railroad cars, now dying away and then reviving like the beat of a partridge, conveying travellers from Boston to the country—or the faint rattle and tinkle which mark the passage of a carriage or team along the distant highway— country. country. country. country. country. country. country. For I did not live in such an outlandish and out of the way place so out of the world so out of the world so out of the world so out of the world so out of the world so out of the world so out of the world as that boy, who, as I hear, was put out to a farmer in the east part of the town, but ere long ran away and came home again, quite down at the heel and homesick. He had never seen such a dull and out-of-the-world out-of-the-way out-of-the-way out-of-the-way out-of-the-way out-of-the-way out-of-the-way out-of-the-way place; the folks were all gone away off; off; off; off; off; off; off; why, you couldn’t even hear the whistle! I doubt if there is such a place in Massachusetts now:—
 
“In truth, our village has become a butt
 
For one of those fleet railroad shafts, and o’er
 
Our peaceful plain its soothing sound is—Concord.”
6a
Sounds 6a written: A rewritten: E

(Ronald Clapper)
The Fitchburg Railroad then newly constructed Railroad then newly constructed Railroad then newly constructed Railroad then newly constructed Railroad then newly constructed Railroad Railroad Railroad touches the pond within about a hundred rods of my house about a hundred rods south of where I dwell. about a hundred rods south of where I dwell. about a hundred rods south of where I dwell. about a hundred rods south of where I dwell. about a hundred rods south of where I dwell. about a hundred rods south of where I dwell. about a hundred rods south of where I dwell. 6b
Sounds 6b written: E
E: Sounds 6b is interlined.

(Ronald Clapper)
I usually went go go go go to the village along its causeway, and was am am, am, am, as it were, related to society by this link. The men on the freight trains, who go over the whole length of the road, bow to me as to an old acquaintance, they pass me so often, and apparently they take me for an employee; and so I am. I too would fain be a track-repairer somewhere in the orbit of the earth.
7
Sounds 7 written: A rewritten: B, E
B: A fair copy was made of only “sounding like the scream … the wit that writes them”.
E: A fair copy was made of only “The whistle of the locomotive … many restless city merchants”.

(Ronald Clapper)
The whistle of the steam engine steam engine steam engine steam engine steam engine locomotive locomotive locomotive penetrates my woods summer and winter, sounding like the scream of a hawk sailing over some farmer’s yard, informing me that many restless city merchants were were are are are are are are are arriving within the circle of the town, or adventurous country traders from the other side. As they come under one horizon, they shout their warning to get off the track to the other, heard sometimes through the circles of two towns. Here come your groceries, country; your rations, countrymen! Nor is there any man so independent on his farm as as that he that he that he that he that he that he that he can say them nay. And here’s your pay for them! screams the countryman’s whistle; timber like long catapults catapults battering-rams battering rams battering rams battering rams battering rams battering rams battering rams going twenty miles an hour against the city city city’s city’s city’s city’s city’s city’s city’s walls, and chairs enough to seat all the weary and heavy laden that dwell within ye them. them. them. them. them. them. them. With such huge and lumbering civility the country hands a chair to the city. All the Indian huckleberry hills are stripped, all the cranberry meadows are raked into the city. Up comes the cotton, down goes the woven cloth; up comes the silk, down goes the woollen; up come the books, but down goes the wit that writes them.
8
Sounds 8 written: A rewritten: B

(Ronald Clapper)
When I meet the engine with its train of cars moving off with planetary motion,—or, rather, like a comet, for the beholder knows not if that with that with that with that with that with that with that with that velocity and with that direction it will ever revisit this system, for for since since since since since since since its orbit does not look like a returning curve,—with its steam cloud like a banner streaming behind in golden and silver wreaths, like many a fleecy cloud that fleecy downy cloud that which downy cloud which downy cloud which downy cloud which downy cloud which downy cloud which downy cloud which I have seen, high in the heavens in a summer day heavens in a summer day heavens, heavens, heavens, heavens, heavens, heavens, unfolding its masses to the light,—as if this traveling demigod, this cloud-compeller, this cloud-compeller, this cloud-compeller, this cloud-compeller, this cloud-compeller, this cloud-compeller, would ere long take the sunset sky for the livery of his train; when I hear the iron horse make the hills echo with his snort like thunder, shaking the earth with his feet, and breathing fire and smoke from his nostrils, (what kind of winged horse or fiery dragon they will put into the new Mythology I don’t know,) it seems as if the earth had got a race now worthy to inhabit it. If all were as it seems, and men made the elements their servants for noble ends! If the cloud that hangs over the engine were the perspiration of heroic deeds, or as innocent and beneficent innocent and beneficent beneficent beneficent beneficent beneficent beneficent beneficent to men as that which hovers floats floats floats floats floats floats floats floats over the farmer’s fields, then the elements and Nature herself would cheerfully accompany men on their errands and be their escort.
9
Sounds 9 written: A rewritten: B
A & B: “I watch the passage of the morning cars … the barb of the spear” does not appear in the manuscript in A or in the original copying of B but is interlined in pencil in B.

(Ronald Clapper)
I watch the passage of the morning train cars train cars cars cars cars cars cars cars with the same feeling that I do the rising of the sun, which is not hardly not hardly hardly hardly hardly hardly hardly hardly more regular. Their train of clouds stretching far behind and rising higher and higher, going to heaven while the cars are going to Boston, conceals the sun for many minutes many minutes a minute a minute a minute a minute a minute a minute and casts my distant field into the shade, a celestial train beside which the petty train of cars which hugs the earth is but the barb of the spear. The stabler of the iron horse was up early this winter morning by the light of the stars amid the mountains, to fodder and harness his steed. Fire, too, was awakened thus early to put the vital beat in him and get him off. If the enterprise were as innocent as it is early! If the snow lies deep, they strap on his snow-shoes, and with the giant plow, plow a furrow from the mountains to the seaboard, in which the cars, like a following drill-barrow, sprinkle all the restless men and floating merchandise in the country for seed. All day the fire-steed flies over the country, stopping only that his master may rest, and I am awakened by his tramp and defiant snort at midnight, when in some remote glen in the woods he fronts the elements incased in ice and snow; and will only reach his stall he will only reach his stall only he will reach his stall only he will reach his stall only he will reach his stall only he will reach his stall only he will reach his stall only he will reach his stall only with the morning star, to start once more on his travels without rest or slumber. Or perchance, at evening, I hear him in his stable blowing off the superfluous energy of the day, that he may calm his nerves and cool his liver and brain for a few hours of iron slumber. If the enterprise were as heroic and commanding as it is protracted and unwearied!
10a
Sounds 10a written: B rewritten: D

(Ronald Clapper)
Far through lonely woods which are unfrequented woods unfrequented woods unfrequented woods unfrequented woods unfrequented woods unfrequented woods on the confines of towns, where once only the hunter penetrated by day, in the darkest night dart these bright saloons without the knowledge of their inhabitants; stopping for a time this moment stopping this moment stopping this moment stopping this moment stopping this moment stopping this moment stopping at some brilliant station-house in town or city, where a social crowd is gathered this moment in the crowded and lighted depot, gathered, gathered, gathered, gathered, gathered, gathered, the next in the Dismal Swamp, scaring the owl and fox awaking waking the heroes & xxxxxxx boys fox. fox. fox. fox. fox. fox. 10b
Sounds 10b written: D

(Ronald Clapper)
The startings and arrivals of the cars are now the epochs in the village day. They come & go & come go and come go and come go and come go and come with such regularity and precision, and their whistle can be heard so far, that the farmers set their clocks by them, and thus one well conducted institution regulates a whole country. Have not men improved somewhat in punctuality since the railroad was invented? Do they not talk and think faster in the depot than they did in the stage-office? There is something electric electrifying electrifying electrifying electrifying electrifying in the atmosphere of the former place. Who has not I have I have I have I have I have been astonished at the miracles it has wrought; that some of his my my my my my neighbors, who, he would I should I should I should I should I should have prophesied, once for all, would never get to Boston by so prompt a conveyance, were on hand when the bell rang. To do things “railroad fashion” is now the by-word; and it is worth the while to be warned so often and so sincerely by any power to get off the its its its its its track. There is no stopping to read the riot act, no firing over the heads of the mob, with this earnest traveller. Here comes one whom it is of no use to expostulate with. Only to meet the car on the other track is like standing to have a tin cup shot off your head in this case in this case. in this case. in this case. in this case. 10c
Sounds 10c written: D rewritten: D
D: Sounds 10c was interlined in pencil. A fair copy was made on a partial leaf.

(Ronald Clapper)
We have constructed a fate, an , that never turns aside. (Let that be the name of your engine.) the public Men Men Men Men are advertised that at a certain hour and cannon balls will be fired toward almost every point minute minute minute minute these bolts will be shot toward particular points of the compass; yet it interferes with no man’s business, and the children quietly children children children children go to school on the other track. r
Revision note: D1:
We live the steadier for it.
We live the steadier for it. We live the steadier for it. We live the steadier for it. We live the steadier for it.
We are all educated thus to r
Revision note: D1: stand and have tin cans shot off our heads. Man avoids the bolts of fate by minding his own business affairs
stand and have tin cans shot off our heads be sons of Tell. Man avoids the bolts of fate by minding his own affairs
be sons of Tell. be sons of Tell. be sons of Tell. be sons of Tell.
The air is full of invisible bolts. The air is full of invisible bolts. The air is full of invisible bolts. The air is full of invisible bolts. r
Revision note: D1:
Every path but your own is the path of fate.
Every path but your own is the path of fate. Every path but your own is the path of fate. Every path but your own is the path of fate. Every path but your own is the path of fate.
Keep on your own track, then.
11a
Sounds 11a written: A rewritten: B, D

(Ronald Clapper)
After all What recommends commerce to me is after all After all What recommends commerce to me is after all After all What recommends commerce to me is after all After all what recommends commerce to me is What recommends commerce to me is What recommends commerce to me is What recommends commerce to me is What recommends commerce to me is its enterprise and bravery. It does not fold fold fold fold clasp clasp clasp clasp clasp its hands and pray to Jupiter. I see these men every day go about their business with more or less courage and content, doing more even even even even even than they suspect, and perchance better employed than they could have consciously devised. 11b
Sounds 11b written: B

(Ronald Clapper)
Yet I confess that I I I I I I I am less affected by their heroism who stood up for half an hour in the front line at Buena Vista, than by the steady and cheerful valor of the men who inhabit the snow-plough for their winter quarters; who have not merely the three-o’-clock in the morning courage, which Bonaparte thought was the rarest, but whose courage does not go to rest so early, who go to sleep only when the storm sleeps or the sinews of their iron steed are frozen. On this morning of the Great Snow, perchance, perchance, perchance, perchance, perchance, perchance, which is still raging and chilling men’s blood, I hear the muffled tone of their engine bell from out the fog bank of their chilled breath, which announces that the cars , without long delay, notwithstanding the veto of a New England north-east snow storm, and I I I I I I I behold the ploughmen covered with snow and rime, their heads peering, above the mould-board which is turning down other than daisies and the nests of field-mice, like bowlders of the Sierra Nevada, that occupy an outside place in the universe.
12
Sounds 12 written: B
F: “I feel more like a citizen of the world … advertised in the Cuttingsville Times” does not appear in the manuscript.

(Ronald Clapper)
Commerce is unexpectedly brave, confident & confident and confident and confident and confident and confident and confident and serene, alert, adventurous, and unwearied. It is very natural in its methods in its methods in its methods in its methods in its methods in its methods in its methods withal, far more so than many fantastic enterprises and sentimental experiments, and hence its singular success. I am refreshed and expanded when the freight train rattles past meon the railroad me, me, me, me, me, me, and I smell the stores which go dispensing their odors all the way from Long Wharf to the Ashuelot Lake Champlain, Lake Champlain, Lake Champlain, Lake Champlain, Lake Champlain, Lake Champlain, Lake Champlain, reminding me of foreign parts, of coral reefs, and Indian oceans, and tropical climes, and the extent of the globe. I feel more like a citizen of the world at the sight of the palm-leaf which will cover so many flaxen New England heads the next summer, the Manilla hemp and cocoa-nut husks, the old junk, gunny bags, scrap iron, and rusty nails. This car-load of torn sails is more legible and interesting now than if they should be wrought into paper and printed books. Who can write so graphically the history of the storms they have weathered as these rents have done? They are proof-sheets which need no correction. Here goes lumber from the Maine woods, which did not go out to sea in the last freshet, risen four dollars on the thousand because of what did go out or was split up; pine, spruce, cedar,—first, second, third and fourth qualities, so lately all of one quality, to wave over the bear, and moose, and caribou. Next rolls Thomaston lime, a prime lot, which will get far among the hills before it gets slacked. These rags in bales, of all hues and qualities, the lowest condition to which cotton and linen descend, the final result of dress,—of patterns which are now no longer cried up, unless it be in Milwaukie, as those splendid articles, English, French, or American prints, ginghams, muslins, &c., gathered from all quarters both of fashion and poverty, going to become paper of one color or a few shades only, on which forsooth will be written tales of real life, high and low, and founded on fact! This closed car smells of salt fish, the strong New England and commercial scent, reminding me of the Grand Banks and the fisheries. Who has not seen a salt fish, thoroughly cured for this world, so that nothing can spoil it, and putting the perseverance of the saints to the blush? with which you may sweep or pave the streets, and split your kindlings, and the teamster shelter himself and his lading against sun wind and rain behind it,— and the trader, as a Concord trader once did, hang it up by his door for a sign when he commences business, until at last his oldest customer cannot tell surely whether it be animal, vegetable, or mineral, and yet it shall be as pure as a snowflake, and if it be put into a pot and boiled, will come out an excellent dun fish for a Saturday’s dinner. Next Spanish hides, with the tails still preserving their twist and the angle of elevation they had when the oxen that wore them were careering over the pampas of the Spanish main,—a type of all obstinacy, and evincing how almost hopeless and incurable are all constitutional vices. I confess, that practically speaking, when I have learned a man’s real disposition, I have no hopes of changing it for the better or worse in this state of existence. As the Orientals say, “A cur’s tail may be warmed, and pressed, and bound round with ligatures, and after a twelve years’ labor bestowed upon it, still it will retain its natural form.” The only effectual cure for such inveteracies as these tails exhibit is to make glue of them, which I believe is what is usually done with them, and then they will stay put and stick. Here is a hogshead of molasses or of brandy directed to John Smith, Cuttingsville, Vermont, some trader among the Green Mountains, who imports for the farmers near his clearing, and now perchance stands over his bulk-head and thinks of the last arrivals on the coast, how they may affect the price for him, telling his customers this moment, as he has told them twenty times before this morning, that he expects some by the next train of prime quality. It is advertised in the Cuttingsville Times.
13
Sounds 13 written: F
F: “While these things go up … Of some great ammiral.” And hark!” does not appear in the manuscript.

(Ronald Clapper)
While these things go up other things come down. Warned by the whizzing sound, I look up from my book and see some tall pine, hewn on far northern hills, which has winged its way over the Green Mountains and the Connecticut, shot like an arrow through the township within ten minutes, and scarce another eye beholds it; going
 
“to be the mast
 
Of some great ammiral.”
And hark! here too comes the cattle-train from the other side here comes the cattle-train here comes the cattle-train bearing the cattle of a thousand hills, sheepcots, stables, and cow-yards in the air, drovers with their sticks, and shepherd boys in the midst of their flocks, all but the mountain pastures, whirled along like leaves blown from the mountains by the September gales. The air is filled with the bleating of calves and sheep, and the hustling of oxen, as if a pastoral valley were going by. When the old bell-wether at the head rattles his bell, the mountains do indeed skip like rams and the little hills like lambs. A car-load of drovers, too, in the midst, on a level with their droves now, their vocation gone, but still clinging to their useless sticks as their badge of office. But their dogs, where are they? It is a stampede to them; they are quite thrown out; they have lost the scent. Methinks I hear them barking behind the Peterboro’ Hills, or panting up the western slope of the Green Mountains. They will not be in at the death. Their vocation, too, is gone. Their fidelity and sagacity are below par now. They will slink back to their kennels in disgrace, or perchance run wild and strike a league with the wolf and the fox. So is your pastoral life whirled past and away. But the bell rings, and I must get off the track and let the cars go by;—
 
What’s the railroad to me?
 
I never go to see
 
Where it ends.
 
It fills a few hollows,
 
And makes banks for the swallows,
 
It sets the sand a-blowing,
 
And the blackberries a-growing,
but I cross it like a cart-path in the woods. I will not have my eyes put out & my ears spoiled by its smoke & steam & whistle I will not have my eyes put out and my ears spoiled by its smoke and steam and hissing. I will not have my eyes put out and my ears spoiled by its smoke and steam and hissing.
14
Sounds 14 written: B rewritten: F

(Ronald Clapper)
Now that the cars are gone by, and all the restless world with them, and the fishes in the pond no longer feel their rumbling, I am more alone than ever. And now that the cars are gone by and all the restless world with them, and even the fishes in the pond do not no longer feel their rumbling, I am more silent & alone than ever Now that the cars are gone by, and all the restless world with them, and the fishes in the pond no longer feel their rumbling, I am more alone than ever. Now that the cars are gone by, and all the restless world with them, and the fishes in the pond no longer feel their rumbling, I am more alone than ever. Now that the cars are gone by, and all the restless world with them, and the fishes in the pond no longer feel their rumbling, I am more alone than ever. Now that the cars are gone by, and all the restless world with them, and the fishes in the pond no longer feel their rumbling, I am more alone than ever. Now that the cars are gone by, and all the restless world with them, and the fishes in the pond no longer feel their rumbling, I am more alone than ever. Now that the cars are gone by, and all the restless world with them, and the fishes in the pond no longer feel their rumbling, I am more alone than ever. For the rest of the long summer afternoonperchance, for it was summer when I first heard the whistle afternoon, perhaps, afternoon, perhaps, afternoon, perhaps, afternoon, perhaps, afternoon, perhaps, afternoon, perhaps, my meditations are interrupted only by the occasional faint rattle and tinkle which mark the passage faint rattle faint rattle faint rattle faint rattle faint rattle faint rattle of a carriage or team along the distant highway.
15a
Sounds 15a written: A rewritten: E, F

(Ronald Clapper)
Sometimes, on Sundays, I heard the bells, the Lincoln, Acton, Bedford, or Concord bell, when the wind was favorable, a faint, sweet, and, as it were, natural melody, worth importing into the wilderness. 15b
Sounds 15b written: F

(Ronald Clapper)
At a great sufficient sufficient sufficient distance over the woods the sound of a bell this sound this sound this sound acquires a certain vibratory hum, as if the pine needles in the horizon were the strings of a harp which it sweptand is far more universal and memorable than its ringing near swept. swept. Just as the intervening atmosphere makes a distant ridge of earth itself interesting to our eyes by the azure tint it imparts to it. All sound heard at the greatest possible distance produces one & the same effect, a vibration of the strings of the universal lyre. Just as the intervening atmosphere makes a distant ridge of earth interesting to our eyes by the azure tint it imparts to it All sound heard at the greatest possible distance produces one and the same effect, a vibration of the universal lyre, just as the intervening atmosphere makes a distant ridge of earth interesting to our eyes by the azure tint it imparts to it. All sound heard at the greatest possible distance produces one and the same effect, a vibration of the universal lyre, just as the intervening atmosphere makes a distant ridge of earth interesting to our eyes by the azure tint it imparts to it. There came to me in this case a melody which the air had strained, and which had conversed with every leaf and needle of the wood, that portion of the sound which the elements had taken up and modulated and echoed from vale to vale. The echo is, to some extent, an original sound, and therein is the magic and charm of it. It is not merely a repetition of what was worth repeating in what was worth repeating in what was worth repeating in the bell, but partly the voice of the wood; the same trivial words and notes sung by a wood-nymph.
16
Sounds 16 written: E

(Ronald Clapper)
At evening, the distant lowing of some cow in the horizon beyond the woods sounded sweet and melodious, and at first I would mistake it for the voices of a minstrel some minstrels certain minstrels certain minstrels certain minstrels by whom I was sometimes serenaded, who might be straying over hill and dale; but soon I was not unpleasantly disappointed when it was prolonged into the cheap and natural music of the cow. I do not mean to be satirical, but to express my appreciation of that youth’s those youths’ those youths’ those youths’ those youths’ singing, when I state that I perceived clearly that it was akin to the music of the cow, and they were at length one articulation of Nature.
17
Sounds 17 written: B rewritten: E
B: “Regularly at half past seven, in one part of the summer, after” does not appear in the manuscript.

(Ronald Clapper)
Regularly at half-past seven, in one part of the summer, after the evening train had gone by, the whippoorwills chanted their vespers for half an hour, sitting on a stump by my door, or on upon upon upon upon upon upon upon the ridge pole of the house. of the house. of the house. of the house. of the house. of the house. of the house. or sometimes one circled round and round me, a few feet distant, in the woods, as if tethered by a string. I had a rare opportunity to become acquainted with their habits, for they were very familiar and were my never-failing visitors in summer evenings. Sometimes I have heard three or four singing at once in different parts of the wood, one a bar behind the other, as in a catch & they were so near that I not only heard the cluck after each note distinctly, but occasionally sometimes often a that loud and singular buzzing sound which I have not seen described, to be compared with nothing that I can think of, but that made by like a fly in a spider’s web, only proportionally louder or sometimes one circled round and round me, a few feet distant, in the woods, as if tethered by a string. I had a rare opportunity to become acquainted with their habits, for they were very familiar and were my never-failing visitors in summer evenings. Sometimes I have heard three or four singing at once in different parts of the wood, one a bar behind the other, as in a catch & they were so near that I not only heard the cluck after each note distinctly, but occasionally sometimes often a that loud and singular buzzing sound which I have not seen described, to be compared with nothing that I can think of, but that made by like a fly in a spider’s web, only proportionally louder or sometimes one circled round and round me, a few feet distant, in the woods, as if tethered by a string. I had a rare opportunity to become acquainted with their habits, for they were very familiar and were my never-failing visitors in summer evenings. Sometimes I have heard three or four singing at once in different parts of the wood, one a bar behind the other, as in a catch & they were so near that I not only heard the cluck after each note distinctly, but occasionally sometimes often a that loud and singular buzzing sound which I have not seen described, to be compared with nothing that I can think of, but that made by like a fly in a spider’s web, only proportionally louder or sometimes one circled around & round me in the woods a few feet distant as if tethered by a string They would begin to sing almost with as much regularity and precision as a clock, within five minutes of a particular hour referred to the setting of the sun every evening. I had a rare opportunity to become acquainted with their habits, for they were very familiar and were my never failing visitors in summer evenings. Sometimes I heard three or four singing at once in different parts of the wood, close by one a bar behind the other another and so near me that I not only heard not only the cluck after each note distinctly, but often that singular buzzing sound like a fly in a spider’s web, only proportionally louder. Sometimes one circled round and round me a few feet distant in the woods as if tethered by a string They would begin to sing almost with as much precision as a clock, within five minutes of a particular time, referred to the setting of the sun, every evening. I had a rare opportunity to become acquainted with their habits. Sometimes I heard four or five at once in different parts of the wood, by accident one a bar behind another, and so near me that I distinguished not only the cluck after each note, but often that singular buzzing sound like a fly in a spider’s web, only proportionally louder. Sometimes one would circle round and round me in the woods a few feet distant as if tethered by a string, when probably I was near its eggs. They would begin to sing almost with as much precision as a clock, within five minutes of a particular time, referred to the setting of the sun, every evening. I had a rare opportunity to become acquainted with their habits. Sometimes I heard four or five at once in different parts of the wood, by accident one a bar behind another, and so near me that I distinguished not only the cluck after each note, but often that singular buzzing sound like a fly in a spider’s web, only proportionally louder. Sometimes one would circle round and round me in the woods a few feet distant as if tethered by a string, when probably I was near its eggs. They would begin to sing almost with as much precision as a clock, within five minutes of a particular time, referred to the setting of the sun, every evening. I had a rare opportunity to become acquainted with their habits. Sometimes I heard four or five at once in different parts of the wood, by accident one a bar behind another, and so near me that I distinguished not only the cluck after each note, but often that singular buzzing sound like a fly in a spider’s web, only proportionally louder. Sometimes one would circle round and round me in the woods a few feet distant as if tethered by a string, when probably I was near its eggs. They also sang sang sang sang sang sang sang at intervals throughout the night, and were again as musical as ever just before and about and about and about and about and about and about and about dawn.
18
Sounds 18 written: A rewritten: B
A: “-r-r-r-n! sighs one on this side … from far in the Lincoln woods” does not appear in the manuscript but may have been contained on the missing leaf (#79) which follows.
A & B: Sounds 21 precedes Sounds 18.

(Ronald Clapper)
When other birds are still the screech screech screech screech screech screech screech screech owls take up the strain, like mourning women their ancient u-lu-lu. Their dismal scream is truly Ben Jonsonian. Wise midnight hags! It is no honest and blunt tu-whit tu-who of the poets, but, without jesting, a most solemn graveyard ditty, the mutual consolations of suicide lovers remembering the pangs and the delights of supernal love in the infernal groves. Yet I love to hear their wailing, their doleful responses, trilled along the wood-side, reminding me sometimes of music and singing birds; as if it were the dark and tearful side of music, the regrets and sighs that would fain be sung. They are the spirits, the low spirits and melancholy forebodings, of fallen souls that once in human shape night-walked the earth and did the deeds of darkness, now expiating their sins with their wailing hymns and or threnodies their sins their sins with their wailing hymns or threnodies their sins with their wailing hymns or threnodies their sins with their wailing hymns or threnodies their sins with their wailing hymns or threnodies their sins with their wailing hymns or threnodies their sins with their wailing hymns or threnodies their sins with their wailing hymns or threnodies in the scenery of their transgressions. They give me a new sense of the vastness and the mystery variety and capacity variety and capacity variety and capacity variety and capacity variety and capacity variety and capacity variety and capacity variety and capacity of that nature which is our common dwelling. sighs one on this side of the pond, and circles with the restlessness of despair to some new perch on the gray oaks. Then— echoes one another one another another another another another another another on the farther side with a tremulous a tremulous tremulous tremulous tremulous tremulous tremulous tremulous sincerity, and— comes faintly from far in the Lincoln woods.
19
Sounds 19 written: D
D: Sounds 19 and 20 were added on a leaf from B that had been taken into D.

(Ronald Clapper)
I was also serenaded by a hooting owl. Near at hand Near at hand Near at hand Near at hand Near at hand you could fancy it the most melancholy sound in Nature, as if it she she she she she meant by this to stereotype and make permanent in her choir the dying moans of a human being,—some poor weak relic of mortality who has left hope behind, and howls like an animal, yet with human sobs, on entering the dark valley, It reminded me of ghouls and idiots and insane howlings made more awful by a certain gurgling melodiousness,—I find myself beginning with the letters gl when I try to imitate it,—suggesting a mind which has reached the gelatinous and mildewy stage in the mortification of all healthy and courageous thought It reminded me of ghouls and idiots and insane howlings made more awful by a certain gurgling melodiousness,—I find myself beginning with the letters gl when I try to imitate it,—expressive of a mind which has reached the gelatinous, mildewy stage in the mortification of all healthy and courageous thought. It reminded me of ghouls and idiots and insane howlings. made more awful by a certain gurgling melodiousness,—I find myself beginning with the letters gl when I try to imitate it,—expressive of a mind which has reached the gelatinous, mildewy stage in the mortification of all healthy and courageous thought. It reminded me of ghouls and idiots and insane howlings. made more awful by a certain gurgling melodiousness,—I find myself beginning with the letters gl when I try to imitate it,—expressive of a mind which has reached the gelatinous, mildewy stage in the mortification of all healthy and courageous thought. It reminded me of ghouls and idiots and insane howlings. made more awful by a certain gurgling melodiousness,—I find myself beginning with the letters gl when I try to imitate it,—expressive of a mind which has reached the gelatinous, mildewy stage in the mortification of all healthy and courageous thought. It reminded me of ghouls and idiots and insane howlings. But now one answers from far woods in a strain made really sweet melodious melodious melodious melodious melodious by distance,— Hoo hoo hoo, hooer hoo; Hoo hoo hoo, hoorer hoo: Hoo hoo hoo, hoorer hoo: Hoo hoo hoo, hoorer hoo: Hoo hoo hoo, hoorer hoo: and indeed for the most part it suggested only pleasing associations, whether heard by day or night, by day or night, by day or night, by day or night, summer or winter.
20
Sounds 20 written: D

(Ronald Clapper)
I rejoice that there are owls. Let them do the idiotic and maniacal hooting for men. They suggest a vast and undeveloped nature which men have not recognized. It is a sound admirably suited to swamps and twilight woods which no day illustrates suggesting a vast and undeveloped nature which men have not recognized. It is a sound admirably suited to swamps and twilight woods which no day illustrates, suggesting a vast and undeveloped nature which men have not recognized. It is a sound admirably suited to swamps and twilight woods which no day illustrates, suggesting a vast and undeveloped nature which men have not recognized. It is a sound admirably suited to swamps and twilight woods which no day illustrates, suggesting a vast and undeveloped nature which men have not recognized. It is a sound admirably suited to swamps and twilight woods which no day illustrates, suggesting a vast and undeveloped nature which men have not recognized. They represent the stark twilight and unsatisfied thoughts which I have. all have. all have. all have. all have. All day the sun has shone on the surface of this some some some some some savage swamp, where the double spruce stands festooned hung hung hung hung with usnea lichens, and the hawk circulates small hawks circulate above, small hawks circulate above, small hawks circulate above, small hawks circulate above, and the chickadee lisps amid the evergreens, and the partridge and rabbit skulks skulk skulk skulk skulk skulk beneath; but now a more dismal arid fitting day dawns, and a different race of creatures awakes to express the meaning of Nature there.
21
Sounds 21 written: A rewritten: B
A: “Late in the evening I heard … saturation and waterloggedness and distention. The most” does not appear in the manuscript in A but may have been contained on the missing leaves (#73-75) which precede.
A & B: Sounds 21 follows Bean-Field 7 and precedes Sounds 18.

(Ronald Clapper)
Late in the evening I heard the distant far off distant distant far off distant distant distant distant distant distant distant rumbling of wagons over bridges,—a sound heard farther than almost any other at night,—the baying of dogs, and sometimes still again the lowing of cattle in distant yards some disconsolate cow in a distant barnyard. And then the still again the lowing of cattle in distant yards some disconsolate cow in a distant barnyard. And then the again the lowing of some disconsolate cow in a distant barn-yard. In the mean while all the shore rang with the trump of again the lowing of some disconsolate cow in a distant barn-yard. In the mean while all the shore rang with the trump of again the lowing of some disconsolate cow in a distant barn-yard. In the mean while all the shore rang with the trump of again the lowing of some disconsolate cow in a distant barn-yard. In the mean while all the shore rang with the trump of again the lowing of some disconsolate cow in a distant barn-yard. In the mean while all the shore rang with the trump of again the lowing of some disconsolate cow in a distant barn-yard. In the mean while all the shore rang with the trump of bullfrogs, the sturdy spirits of ancient wine-bibbers and wassailers, still unrepentant, trying to sing a catch in their Stygian lake,— if the Walden nymphs will pardon the comparison for though there were almost no weeds there were frogs in the pond, if the Walden nymphs will pardon the comparison for though there were almost no weeds there were frogs in the pond, if the Walden nymphs will pardon the comparison, for though there are almost no weeds, there are frogs there, if the Walden nymphs will pardon the comparison, for though there are almost no weeds, there are frogs there, if the Walden nymphs will pardon the comparison, for though there are almost no weeds, there are frogs there, if the Walden nymphs will pardon the comparison, for though there are almost no weeds, there are frogs there, if the Walden nymphs will pardon the comparison, for though there are almost no weeds, there are frogs there, if the Walden nymphs will pardon the comparison, for though there are almost no weeds, there are frogs there, —who would fain keep up the hilarious rules of their old festal tables, though their voices have waxed hoarse and solemnly grave, mocking at mirth, and the wine has lost its flavor, and become only liquor to distend their paunches, and sweet intoxication never comes to drown the memory of the past, but mere saturation and waterloggedness and distention. The most aldermanic, with his chin upon a pad heart-leaf, heart-leaf, heart-leaf, heart-leaf, heart-leaf, heart-leaf, heart-leaf, which serves for a napkin to his drooling chaps, under this northern shore quaffs a deep draught of the once scorned water, and passes round the cup with the ejaculation and straightway comes over the water from some distant cove the same password repeated, where the next in seniority and girth has gulped down to his mark; and when this observance has made the circuit of the shores, then ejaculates the master of ceremonies, with satisfaction, and each in his turn repeats the same down to the least distended, leakiest, and flabbiest paunched, that there be no mistake; and then the bowl goes round again and again, until the sun disperses the morning mist, and only the patriarch is not under the pond, but vainly bellowing from time to time, and pausing for a reply.
22
Sounds 22 written: A rewritten: B
A: “I am not sure that I ever heard … their native songsters” does not appear in the manuscript but may have been contained on the missing leaves (#61-67) which precede.
A & B: Sounds 22 precedes Sounds 15a.

(Ronald Clapper)
The sound of cock crowing I never heard the sound of cock crowing The sound of cock crowing I never heard the sound of cock crowing I am not sure that I ever heard the sound of cock-crowing I am not sure that I ever heard the sound of cock-crowing I am not sure that I ever heard the sound of cock-crowing I am not sure that I ever heard the sound of cock-crowing I am not sure that I ever heard the sound of cock-crowing I am not sure that I ever heard the sound of cock-crowing from my clearing, and I thought that that that that that that that that it might be worth the while to keep a rooster cockerel rooster cockerel cockerel cockerel cockerel cockerel cockerel cockerel for his music merely, and merely, and merely, merely, merely, merely, merely, merely, as a singing bird. The note of this once wild Indian pheasant is certainly the most remarkable of any bird’s, and if they could be naturalized without being domesticated, it would soon become the most famous sound in our woods, surpassing the clangor of the goose and the hooting of the owl; and then imagine the cackling of the hens to fill the pauses when their lords’ clarions rested! No wonder that man added this bird to his tame stock,—to say nothing of the eggs and drumsticks. To walk in a winter morning in a wood where these birds abounded, their native woods, and hear the wild cockerels crow on the trees, clear and shrill for miles over the resounding earth, drowning the feebler notes of other birds,—think of it! It would put nations on the alert. Who would not be early to rise, and rise earlier and earlier each every each every every every every every every every successive day of his life, till he became unspeakably healthy, wealthy, and wise? This foreign bird’s note is remembered and celebrated by the English poets of all countries along with the native sky-lark and the nightingale notes of their native songsters.But this faint clarion did not penetrate my woods remembered and celebrated by the English poets of all countries along with the native sky-lark and the nightingale notes of their native songsters.But this faint clarion did not penetrate my woods celebrated by the poets of all countries along with the notes of their native songsters. celebrated by the poets of all countries along with the notes of their native songsters. celebrated by the poets of all countries along with the notes of their native songsters. celebrated by the poets of all countries along with the notes of their native songsters. celebrated by the poets of all countries along with the notes of their native songsters. celebrated by the poets of all countries along with the notes of their native songsters. n
Note: The following passage begins on a leaf in B, which apparently was a fair copy of material in the missing leaves of A; the passage continues on a leaf in A (R. Clapper)
When I kept hens once in the village before I went to the woods, there was one white rooster cockerel rooster I remember in one of the broods which I reared that went much by himself, a pensive stately-paced young cockerel, that still had a good deal of the pheasant in him. One night he was by chance shut out of the hen-yard, and after long reconnoitering and anxious n
Note: end of B leaf and beginning of A leaf (R. Clapper)
going & coming—with brave thoughts exaling him—and fancies rushing thick upon him—crowing long memoriter wise of his Indian origin & wild descent—he flew like a bird up into the branches of a tree, and went to roost there.—And I who had witnessed this passage in his private history immediately wrote these verses, & inscribed them to him.
 
Poor bird! destined to lead thy life
 
Far in the adventurous west,
 
And here to be debarred to-night
 
From thy accustomed nest;
 
Must thou fall back upon old instinct now,—
 
Well nigh extinct under man’s fickle care?
 
Did Heaven bestow its quenchless inner light
 
So long ago, for thy small want to-night?
 
Why stand’st upon thy toes to crow so late?
 
The moon is deaf to thy low feathered fate;
 
Or dost thou think so to possess the night,
 
And people the drear dark with thy brave sprite?
 
And now with anxious eye thou look’st about,
 
While the relentless shade draws on its veil,
 
For some sure shelter from approaching dews,
 
And the insidious steps of nightly foes.
 
I fear imprisonment has dulled thy wit,
 
Or ingrained servitude extinguished it.
 
But no,—dim memory of the days of yore,
 
By Brahmapootra & the Jumna’s shore,
 
Where thy proud race flew swiftly o’er the heath,
 
And sought its food the jungle’s shade beneath,—
 
Has taught thy wings to seek yon friendly trees,
 
As erst by Indus’ banks & far Ganges.
I am perhaps the only inhabitant of the town or of the state who does not hear the cock crow
n
Note: The following passage begins on a leaf in B, which apparently was a fair copy of material in the missing leaves of A; the passage continues on a leaf in A (R. Clapper)
I am was perhaps the only inhabitant of the town Concord or of the state who does did not hear the cock crow
All climates agree with brave Chanticleer. He is more indigenous even than the natives. His health is ever good, his lungs are sound, his spirits never flag All climates agree with brave Chanticleer. He is more indigenous even than the natives. His health is ever good, his lungs are sound, his spirits never flag All climates agree with brave Chanticleer. He is more indigenous even than the natives. His health is ever good, his lungs are sound, his spirits never flag All climates agree with brave Chanticleer. He is more indigenous even than the natives. His health is ever good, his lungs are sound, his spirits never flag All climates agree with brave Chanticleer. He is more indigenous even than the natives. His health is ever good, his lungs are sound, his spirits never flag All climates agree with brave Chanticleer. He is more indigenous even than the natives. His health is ever good, his lungs are sound, his spirits never flag
Even the sailor on the Atlantic and Pacific is awakened by this familiar sound this familiar sound his voice; but its shrill sound never roused me from my slumbers. his voice; but its shrill sound never roused me from my slumbers. his voice; but its shrill sound never roused me from my slumbers. his voice; but its shrill sound never roused me from my slumbers. his voice; but its shrill sound never roused me from my slumbers. his voice; but its shrill sound never roused me from my slumbers. I keep kept kept kept kept kept kept kept kept neither dog, cat, cow, pig, nor hens, so that you would have said so that you would have said so that you would have said so that you would have said so that you would have said so that you would have said so that you would have said there is was was was was was was was was a deficiency of domestic sounds; neither the churn, nor the spinning wheel, nor even the singing of the kettle, nor the hissing of the urn, nor children crying, to comfort one. An old-fashioned man would have lost his senses and and or or or or or or or died of ennui before this. before this. before this. before this. before this. before this. before this. before this. Not even rats in the wall, for they were starved out, but but or rather were never baited in, or rather were never baited in, or rather were never baited in, or rather were never baited in, or rather were never baited in, or rather were never baited in, —only squirrels on the roof and under the floor, a whippoorwill on the ridge pole, a blue-jay screaming in the yard beneath the window, beneath the window, beneath the window, beneath the window, beneath the window, beneath the window, beneath the window, a hare or woodchuck under the house, a screech-owl or a cat-owl behind it, a flock of wild geese or a laughing loon in in on on on on on on on the pond, and and and and and and and and a fox to bark in the night. But not Not Not Not Not Not Not Not even a lark or an oriole, those mild plantation birds, ever visit visited visited visited visited visited visited visited visited my clearing. No cockerels to crow nor hens to cackle in the yard. No yard! but unfenced Nature reaching up to your very sills. A young forest growing up under your windows, and wild sumachs and blackberry vines breaking through into your cellar; sturdy pitch-pines rubbing and creaking against the shingles for want of room, their roots reaching quite under the house. Instead of a scuttle or a blind blown off in the gale,—a pine tree snapped off or torn up by the roots behind your house for fuel. Instead of no path to the front-yard gate in the Great Snow,—no gate,—no front-yard,—and no path to the civilized world!

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