Hermoso hasta el dolor: In vain observe the western blaze, Who idly look to other skies...

                   In vain I see the morning rise,                      
In vain observe the western blaze,
Who idly look to other skies,
Expecting life by other ways.

Amidst such boundless wealth without,
I only still am poor within,
The birds have sung their summer out,
But still my spring does not begin. 

Shall I then wait the autumn wind,
Compelled to seek a milder day,
And leave no curious nest behind,
No woods still echoing to my lay?

 Henry D. Thoreau

The Poet's Delay