I stand apart to hear–it never tires me.
To you, your name also;
Did you think there was nothing but two or three pronunciations in
the sound of your name?
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THE prairie-grass dividing–its special odor breathing,
Demand the most copious and close companionship of men,Demand the blades to rise of words, acts, beings,Those of the open atmosphere, coarse, sunlit, fresh, nutritious,Those that go their own gait, erect, stepping with freedom andcommand–leading, not following,Those with a never-quell’d audacity–those with sweet and lustyflesh, clear of taint,Those that look carelessly in the faces of…
WITH all thy gifts, America,
Power, wealth, extent, vouchsafed to thee–With these, and like ofthese, vouchsafed to thee,What if one gift thou lackest? (the ultimate human problem neversolving;)The gift of Perfect Women fit for thee–What of that gift of giftsthou lackest?The towering Feminine of thee? the beauty, health, completion, fitfor thee?The Mothers fit for thee?
Ah, not this marble, dead and cold:
comprehending,Thou, Washington, art all the world’s, the continents’ entire—not yours alone, America,Europe’s as well, in every part, castle of lord or laborer’s cot,Or frozen North, or sultry South—the African’s—the Arab’s inhis tent,Old Asia’s there with venerable smile, seated amid her ruins;(Greets the antique the hero new? ‘tis but the same—the heirlegitimate, continued ever,The indomitable heart…
LOOK down, fair moon, and bathe this scene;
purple;On the dead, on their backs, with their arms toss’d wide,Pour down your unstinted nimbus, sacred moon.
BY the bivouac’s fitful flame,
I note,The tents of the sleeping army, the fields’ and woods’ dim outline,The darkness, lit by spots of kindled fire–the silence;Like a phantom far or near an occasional figure moving;The shrubs and trees, (as I lift my eyes they seem to be stealthilywatching me;)While wind in procession thoughts, O tender and wondrous thoughts,Of life and…
YEAR of meteors! brooding year!
I would sing your contest for the 19th Presidentiad;I would sing how an old man, tall, with white hair, mounted thescaffold in Virginia;(I was at hand–silent I stood, with teeth shut close–I watch’d;I stood very near you, old man, when cool and indifferent, buttrembling with age and your unheal’d wounds, you mounted thescaffold;)–I would sing…