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14 O such themes! Equalities! O amazement of things! O divine average! O warblings under the sun—ushered, as now, or at
 * noon, or setting!

O strain, musical, flowing through ages—now
 * reaching hither,

I take to your reckless and composite chords—I
 * add to them, and cheerfully pass them forward.

As I have walked in Alabama my morning walk, I have seen where the she-bird, the mocking-bird, sat
 * on her nest in the briers, hatching her brood,

I have seen the he-bird also, I have paused to hear him, near at hand, inflating his
 * throat, and joyfully singing.

And while I paused, it came to me that what he
 * really sang for was not there only,

Nor for his mate nor himself only, nor all sent back
 * by the echoes,

But subtle, clandestine, away beyond, A charge transmitted, and gift occult, for those
 * being born.

Democracy! Near at hand to you a throat is now inflating itself
 * and joyfully singing.

Ma femme! For the brood beyond us and of us, For those who belong here, and those to come,