On Being Asked, Whence Is the Flower?
1In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes,
2 I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods,
3 Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook,
4 To please the desert and the sluggish brook.
5 The purple petals fallen in the pool
6 Made the black water with their beauty gay;
7 Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool,
8 And court the flower that cheapens his array.
9 Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why
10 This charm is wasted on the earth and sky,
11 Tell them, dear, that, if eyes were made for seeing,
12 Then beauty is its own excuse for Being;
13 Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose!
14 I never thought to ask; I never knew;
15 But in my simple ignorance suppose
16 The self-same power that brought me there, brought you.
On Being Asked, Whence Is the Flower?
1In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes,
2 I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods,
3 Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook,
4 To please the desert and the sluggish brook.
5 The purple petals fallen in the pool
6 Made the black water with their beauty gay;
7 Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool,
8 And court the flower that cheapens his array.
9 Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why
10 This charm is wasted on the earth and sky,
11 Tell them, dear, that, if eyes were made for seeing,
12 Then beauty is its own excuse for Being;
13 Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose!
14 I never thought to ask; I never knew;
15 But in my simple ignorance suppose
16 The self-same power that brought me there, brought you.
On Being Asked, Whence Is the Flower?
In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes,
I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods,
Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook,
To please the desert and the sluggish brook.
The purple petals fallen in the pool
Made the black water with their beauty gay;
Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool,
And court the flower that cheapens his array.
Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why
This charm is wasted on the earth and sky,
Tell them, dear, that, if eyes were made for seeing,
Then beauty is its own excuse for Being;
Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose!
I never thought to ask; I never knew;
But in my simple ignorance suppose
The self-same power that brought me there, brought you.
Select any word below to get its definition in the context of the poem. The words are listed in the order in which they appear in the poem.
Transcendentalism — Learn more about the philosophical and artistic movement Emerson led.
Emerson's Life and Work — Read a short biography of Ralph Waldo Emerson at Poets.org.
The Poem Out Loud — Listen to a recording of the poem.
See the Rhodora — Learn more about, and see some photographs of, the flowering shrub that inspired this poem.