Happiness is very unprofitable stock.
The love which is preached nowadays is an ocean of new milk for a man to swim in. I hear no surf nor surge, but the winds coo over it.]
[293] [See Week, pp. xx, xxi; Misc., Riv. 8, 9 (Emerson's Biographical Sketch of Thoreau).]
[294] [Week, p. 291; Riv. 361.]
[295] [Week, p. 363; Riv. 450.]
[296] [Week, p. 395; Riv. 488.]
[297] [Week, p. 395; Riv. 488.]
[298] [This poem, with the four additional stanzas of the next date, appears in the Week, pp. 313, 314 (Riv. 388, 389) under the title of "The Inward Morning." The second stanza is there omitted and there are other alterations.]
[299] [Familiar Letters, Sept., 1852.]