Poetry Contest - Love Poetry - Romantic Poetry

 

 

 

 

 

I Hear America Singing.

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 the 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 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.

Poet: Walt Whitman

read: 79 times Rating: Date: 14 January, 2008

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