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Poem by Walt Whitman


Leaves of Grass. 20. By the Roadside. 29. To The States [To Identify the 16th, 17th, or 18th Presidentiad]


Why reclining, interrogating? why myself and all drowsing?
What deepening twilight-scum floating atop of the waters,
Who are they as bats and night-dogs askant in the capitol?
What a filthy Presidentiad! (O South, your torrid suns! O North,
      your arctic freezings!)
Are those really Congressmen? are those the great Judges? is that
      the President?
Then I will sleep awhile yet, for I see that these States sleep, for
      reasons;
(With gathering murk, with muttering thunder and lambent shoots we
      all duly awake,
South, North, East, West, inland and seaboard, we will surely awake.)



Walt Whitman


Walt Whitman's other poems:
  1. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 56. Old Age's Lambent Peaks
  2. Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 13. Out from Behind This Mask [To Confront a Portrait]
  3. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 32. Life
  4. Leaves of Grass. 5. Calamus. 16. Behold This Swarthy Face
  5. Leaves of Grass. 5. Calamus. 21. The Prairie-Grass Dividing


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