Yesterday afternoon I went to the Cliff with Henry Thoreau. Warm, pleasant, misty weather, which the great Mountain ampitheatre seemed to drink in with gladness. A Crow's voice seemed to fill all the miles of air with sound. A Bird's voice, even a piping Frog, enlivens a solitude and makes world enough for us. At night I went out into the dark and saw a glimmering Star and heard a Frog, and Nature seemed to say, "Well, do not these suffice? Here is a new scene, a new experience. Ponder it, Emerson, and not like the foolish world, hanker after...multitudes."
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