Walt Whitman


Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 24. Washington's Monument February, 1885


Ah, not this marble, dead and cold:
Far from its base and shaft expanding葉he round zones circling,
      comprehending,
Thou, Washington, art all the world's, the continents' entire溶ot
      yours alone, America,
Europe's as well, in every part, castle of lord or laborer's cot,
Or frozen North, or sultry South葉he African's葉he Arab's in his tent,
Old Asia's there with venerable smile, seated amid her ruins;
(Greets the antique the hero new? 'tis but the same葉he heir
      legitimate, continued ever,
The indomitable heart and arm用roofs of the never-broken line,
Courage, alertness, patience, faith, the same容'en in defeat
      defeated not, the same:)
Wherever sails a ship, or house is built on land, or day or night,
Through teeming cities' streets, indoors or out, factories or farms,
Now, or to come, or past謡here patriot wills existed or exist,
Wherever Freedom, pois'd by Toleration, sway'd by Law,
Stands or is rising thy true monument.






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