The Patriotic Poems of Walt Whitman
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Thunder on! stride on, Democracy! strike with vengeful stroke!And do you rise higher than ever yet O days, O cities!Crash heavier, heavier yet O storms! you have done me good,My soul prepared in the mountains absorbs your immortal strong nutriment,Long had I walk'd my cities, my country roads through farms, only half satisfied,One doubt nauseous undulating like a snake, crawl'd on the ground before me,Continually preceding my steps, turning upon me oft, ironically hissing low;The cities I loved so well I abandon'd and left, I sped to the certainties suitable to me,Hungering, hungering, hungering, for primal energies and Nature's dauntlessness,I refresh'd myself with it only, I could relish it only,I waited the bursting forth of the pent fire—on the water and air I waited long;But now I no longer wait, I am fully satisfied, I am glutted,I have witness'd the true lightning, I have witness'd my cities electric,I have lived to behold man burst forth and warlike America rise,Hence I will seek no more the food of the northern solitary wilds,No more the mountains roam or sail the stormy sea.THE END