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THE CONDUCT OF LIFEby Ralph Waldo EmersonIFATEDelicate omens traced in airTo the lone bard true witness bare;Birds with auguries on their wingsChanted undeceiving thingsHim to beckon, him to warn;Well might then the poet scornTo learn of scribe or courierHints writ in vaster character;And on his mind, at dawn of day,Soft shadows of the evening lay.For the prevision is alliedUnto the thing so signified;Or say, the foresight that awaitsIs the same Genius that creates._Fate_It chanced during one winter, a few years ago, that our citieswsing the theory of the Age. By an odd coincidence, four or five...