Walt Whitman

LEAVES OF GRASS
(1891-92 issue)
complete book, e-book

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15

 The pure contralto sings in the organ loft,
 The carpenter dresses his plank, the tongue of his foreplane
 whistles its wild ascending lisp,
 The married and unmarried children ride home to their Thanksgiving dinner,
 The pilot seizes the king-pin, he heaves down with a strong arm,
 The mate stands braced in the whale-boat, lance and harpoon are ready,
 The duck-shooter walks by silent and cautious stretches,
 The deacons are ordain'd with cross'd hands at the altar,
 The spinning-girl retreats and advances to the hum of the big wheel,
 The farmer stops by the bars as he walks on a First-day loafe and
 looks at the oats and rye,
 The lunatic is carried at last to the asylum a confirm'd case,
 (He will never sleep any more as he did in the cot in his mother's
 bed-room;)
 The jour printer with gray head and gaunt jaws works at his case,
 He turns his quid of tobacco while his eyes blurr with the manuscript;
 The malform'd limbs are tied to the surgeon's table,
 What is removed drops horribly in a pail;
 The quadroon girl is sold at the auction-stand, the drunkard nods by
 the bar-room stove,
 The machinist rolls up his sleeves, the policeman travels his beat,
 the gate-keeper marks who pass,
 The young fellow drives the express-wagon, (I love him, though I do
 not know him;)
 The half-breed straps on his light boots to compete in the race,
 The western turkey-shooting draws old and young, some lean on their
 rifles, some sit on logs,
 Out from the crowd steps the marksman, takes his position, levels his piece;
 The groups of newly-come immigrants cover the wharf or levee,
 As the woolly-pates hoe in the sugar-field, the overseer views them
 from his saddle,
 The bugle calls in the ball-room, the gentlemen run for their
 partners, the dancers bow to each other,
 The youth lies awake in the cedar-roof'd garret and harks to the
 musical rain,
 The Wolverine sets traps on the creek that helps fill the Huron,
 The squaw wrapt in her yellow-hemm'd cloth is offering moccasins and
 bead-bags for sale,
 The connoisseur peers along the exhibition-gallery with half-shut
 eyes bent sideways,
 As the deck-hands make fast the steamboat the plank is thrown for
 the shore-going passengers,
 The young sister holds out the skein while the elder sister winds it
 off in a ball, and stops now and then for the knots,
 The one-year wife is recovering and happy having a week ago borne
 her first child,
 The clean-hair'd Yankee girl works with her sewing-machine or in the
 factory or mill,
 The paving-man leans on his two-handed rammer, the reporter's lead
 flies swiftly over the note-book, the sign-painter is lettering
 with blue (...)
(......)