| Election Day, November 1884 | |
| by Walt Whitman (from Leaves of Grass, 1892) | |
|
If I should need to name, O Western World, your powerfulest scene and show, ’Twould not be you, Niagara—nor you, ye limitless prairies—nor your huge rifts of canyons, Colorado, Nor you, Yosemite—nor Yellowstone, with all its spasmic geyserloops ascending to the skies, appearing and disappearing, Nor Oregon’s white cones—nor Huron’s belt of mighty lakes—nor Mississippi’s stream: —This seething hemisphere’s humanity, as now, I’d name—the still small voice vibrating—America’s choosing day, (The heart of it not in the chosen—the act itself the main, the quadrennial choosing,) The stretch of North and South arous’d-sea-board and inland-Texas to Maine—the Prairie States—Vermont, Virginia, California, The final ballot-shower from East to West—the paradox and conflict, The countless snow-flakes falling—(a swordless conflict, Yet more than all Rome’s wars of old, or modern Napoleon’s:) the peaceful choice of all, Or good or ill humanity—welcoming the darker odds, the dross: —Foams and ferments the wine? it serves to purify—while the heart pants, life glows: These stormy gusts and winds waft precious ships, Swell’d Washington’s, Jefferson’s, Lincoln’s sails. 
|
|
|
Next page > “Why I Voted the Socialist Ticket” by Vachel Lindsay... |
|
Explore Poetry
Must Reads
About.com Special Features
Tips that will help finance your education, excel in the classroom, and advance your career. More >
Being well prepared is the first step; here are more essential suggestions. More >
©2009 About.com, a part of The New York Times Company.
All rights reserved.