Here you will find the Poem Guy of poet Ralph Waldo Emerson
Mortal mixed of middle clay, Attempered to the night and day, Interchangeable with things, Needs no amulets nor rings. Guy possessed the talisman That all things from him began, And as, of old, Polycrates Chained the sunshine and the breeze, So did Guy betimes discover Fortune was his guard and lover; In strange junctures, felt with awe His own symmetry with law, That no mixture could withstand The virtue of his lucky hand. He gold or jewel could not lose, Nor not receive his ample dues; In the street, if he turned round, His eye the eye 'twas seeking found. It seemed his Genius discreet Worked on the Maker's own receipt, And made each tide and element Stewards of stipend and of rent; So that the common waters fell As costly wine into his well. He had so sped his wise affairs That he caught nature in his snares; Early or late, the falling rain Arrived in time to swell his grain; Stream could not so perversely wind, But corn of Guy's was there to grind; The whirlwind found it on its way To speed his sails, to dry his hay; And the world's sun seemed to rise To drudge all day for Guy the wise. In his rich nurseries, timely skill Strong crab with nobler blood did fill; The Zephyr in his garden rolled From plum trees vegetable gold; And all the hours of the year With their own harvest hovered were: There was no frost but welcome came, Nor freshet, nor midsummer flame; Belonged to wind and world the toil And venture, and to Guy the oil.