Leaves of grass. | ||
10
47 A show of the summer
softness! a contact of
some- thing
unseen! an amour of the light and air!
I am jealous, and overwhelm'd with friendliness,
And will go gallivant with the light and air myself,
And have an unseen something to be in contact with them also.
48 O love and summer! you are in the dreams, and in me!
Autumn and winter are in the dreams — the farmer goes with his thrift,
The droves and crops increase, and the barns are well- fill'd.
49 Elements merge in the night — ships make tacks in the dreams,
The sailor sails — the exile returns home,
The fugitive returns unharm'd — the immigrant is back beyond months and years,
The poor Irishman lives in the simple house of his childhood, with the well-known neighbors and faces,
They warmly welcome him — he is barefoot again, he forgets he is well off;
The Dutchman voyages home, and the Scotchman and Welshman voyage home, and the native of the Mediterranean voyages home,
To every port of England, France, Spain, enter well- fill'd ships,
The Swiss foots it to toward his hills — the Prussian goes his way, the Hungarian his way, and the Pole his way,
The Swede returns, and the Dane and Norwegian re- turn.
327
And will go gallivant with the light and air myself,
And have an unseen something to be in contact with them also.
48 O love and summer! you are in the dreams, and in me!
Autumn and winter are in the dreams — the farmer goes with his thrift,
The droves and crops increase, and the barns are well- fill'd.
49 Elements merge in the night — ships make tacks in the dreams,
The sailor sails — the exile returns home,
The fugitive returns unharm'd — the immigrant is back beyond months and years,
The poor Irishman lives in the simple house of his childhood, with the well-known neighbors and faces,
They warmly welcome him — he is barefoot again, he forgets he is well off;
The Dutchman voyages home, and the Scotchman and Welshman voyage home, and the native of the Mediterranean voyages home,
To every port of England, France, Spain, enter well- fill'd ships,
The Swiss foots it to toward his hills — the Prussian goes his way, the Hungarian his way, and the Pole his way,
The Swede returns, and the Dane and Norwegian re- turn.
Leaves of grass. | ||