Page:Leaves of Grass (1860).djvu/77

Rh Where the half-burned brig is riding on unknown
 * currents,

Where shells grow to her slimy deck—Where the
 * dead are corrupting below,

Where the striped and starred flag is borne at the
 * head of the regiments,

Approaching Manhattan, up by the long-stretching
 * island,

Under Niagara, the cataract falling like a veil over
 * my countenance,

Upon a door-step—upon the horse-block of hard
 * wood outside,

Upon the race-course, or enjoying picnics or jigs, or
 * a good game of base-ball,

At he-festivals, with blackguard gibes, ironical license,
 * bull-dances, drinking, laughter,

At the cider-mill, tasting the sweet of the brown
 * sqush, sucking the juice through a straw,

At apple-peelings, wanting kisses for all the red fruit
 * I find,

At musters, beach-parties, friendly bees, huskings,
 * house-raisings;

Where the mocking-bird sounds his delicious gurgles,
 * cackles, screams, weeps,

Where the hay-rick stands in the barn-yard—Where
 * the dry-stalks are scattered—Where the brood
 * cow waits in the hovel,

Where the bull advances to do his masculine work—
 * Where the stud to the mare—Where the cock
 * is treading the hen,

Where heifers browse—Where geese nip their food
 * with short jerks,

Where sun-down shadows lengthen over the limitless
 * and lonesome prairie,