Thoreau writes his poem “The Assabet” in his journal:
Rivers from the sun do flow,
Springing with the dewy morn;
Voyageurs ‘gainst time do row,
Idle noon nor sunset know,
Ever even with tile dawn.
Since that first “Away! away!”
Many a lengthy league we’ve rowed,
Still the sparrow on the spray
Hastes to usher in the day
With her simple stanza’d ode.
