 |
|
|
|
 | Leaves of grass. |  |
LONG, TOO LONG, O LAND.
LONG, too long, O land,
Traveling roads all even and peaceful, you learn'd from joys and prosperity only;
But now, ah now, to learn from crises of anguish — ad- vancing, grappling with direst fate, and recoiling not;
And now to conceive, and show to the world, what your children en-masse really are;
(For who except myself has yet conceived what your children en-masse really are?)
Traveling roads all even and peaceful, you learn'd from joys and prosperity only;
But now, ah now, to learn from crises of anguish — ad- vancing, grappling with direst fate, and recoiling not;
And now to conceive, and show to the world, what your children en-masse really are;
(For who except myself has yet conceived what your children en-masse really are?)
46a
| Leaves of grass. | |