A little Uncle Walt for you on a holiday weekend:
I Hear America Singing
By Walt Whitman
I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,
Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong,
The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam,
The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work,
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck,
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands,
The wood-cutter’s song, the ploughboy’s on his way in the morning, or at noon intermission or at sundown,
The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of the girl sewing or washing,
Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else,
The day what belongs to the day—at night the party of young fellows, robust, friendly,
Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs.
I know all the states are in some stage of “re-opening,” but the coronavirus is still VERY much out there. Even if you aren’t in one of the states where it’s become epidemic (Florida, Arizona, Texas), PLEASE celebrate wisely this weekend, best at home with only those you live with, in all cases outdoors, wearing masks, and NOT in large groups.
Original text found at the Poetry Foundation.
Image found here (and you should click the link to learn something that may surprise you about Lady Liberty).
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