 | Leaves of grass. |  |
22
68 O my rapt song, my charm
— mock me not!
Not for the bards of the past — not to invoke them have I launch'd you forth,
Not to call even those lofty bards here by Ontario's shores,
Have I sung, so capricious and loud, my savage song.
69 But, O strong soul of Poets,
Bards for my own land, ere I go, I invoke.
70 You Bards grand as these days so grand!
Bards of the great Idea! Bards of the wondrous in- ventions!
Bards of the marching armies — a million soldiers waiting ever-ready,
Bards towering like hills — (no more these dots, these pigmies, these little piping straws, these gnats, that fill the hour, to pass for poets;)
Bards with songs as from burning coals, or the light- ning's fork'd stripes!
Ample Ohio's bards — bards for California! inland bards;
Bards of pride! Bards tallying the ocean's roar, and the swooping eagle's scream!
You, by my charm, I invoke!
Not for the bards of the past — not to invoke them have I launch'd you forth,
Not to call even those lofty bards here by Ontario's shores,
Have I sung, so capricious and loud, my savage song.
69 But, O strong soul of Poets,
Bards for my own land, ere I go, I invoke.
70 You Bards grand as these days so grand!
Bards of the great Idea! Bards of the wondrous in- ventions!
Bards of the marching armies — a million soldiers waiting ever-ready,
Bards towering like hills — (no more these dots, these pigmies, these little piping straws, these gnats, that fill the hour, to pass for poets;)
Bards with songs as from burning coals, or the light- ning's fork'd stripes!
Ample Ohio's bards — bards for California! inland bards;
Bards of pride! Bards tallying the ocean's roar, and the swooping eagle's scream!
You, by my charm, I invoke!
22c
| Leaves of grass. | |