LONG, TOO LONG AMERICA
LONG, too long America,
Traveling roads all even and peaceful you learn’d from joys and
But now, ah now, to learn from crises of anguish, advancing, grap-
pling 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 conceiv’d what your children
en-masse really are?)
Centre of equal daughters, equal sons,
All, all alike endear’d, grown, ungrown, young or old,
Strong, ample, fair, enduring, capable, rich,
Perennial with the Earth, with Freedom, Law and Love,
A grand, sane, towering, seated Mother,
Chair’d in the adamant of Time.
Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892), American poet, essayist, journalist and humanist.