Thoreau writes his poem “The Thaw” in his journal:
Her tears of joy, that only faster flowed.
Fain would I stretch me by the highway-side,
To thaw and trickle with the melting snow,
That, mingled soul and body with the tide,
I too may through the pores of nature flow.
But I, alas, nor trickle can nor fume,
One jot to forward the great work of Time,
‘Tis mine to hearken while these ply the loom,
So shall my silence with their music chime.
