Poem by Walt Whitman

Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 5. A Carol Closing Sixty-Nine

A carol closing sixty-nine—a resume—a repetition,
My lines in joy and hope continuing on the same,
Of ye, O God, Life, Nature, Freedom, Poetry;
Of you, my Land—your rivers, prairies, States—you, mottled Flag I love,
Your aggregate retain'd entire—Of north, south, east and west, your
      items all;
Of me myself—the jocund heart yet beating in my breast,
The body wreck'd, old, poor and paralyzed—the strange inertia
      falling pall-like round me,
The burning fires down in my sluggish blood not yet extinct,
The undiminish'd faith—the groups of loving friends.

1. Leaves of Grass. 20. By the Roadside. 24. Hast Never Come to Thee an Hour
2. Leaves of Grass. 21. Drum-Taps. 30. Race of Veterans
3. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 28. Old Salt Kossabone
4. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 15. To-Day and Thee
5. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 34. Small the Theme of My Chant

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