The Return of the Heroes
1 For the lands and for these passionate days and for myself, Now I awhile retire to thee O soil of autumn fields, Reclining on thy breast, giving myself to thee, Answering the pulses of thy sane and equable heart, Turning a verse for thee. O earth that hast no voice, confide to me a voice, O harvest of my lands—O boundless summer growths, O lavish brown parturient earth—O infinite teeming womb, A song to narrate thee.
Posted on 29/03/2015, in literature, poetry and tagged 19th Century Poetry, American literature, American poets, Daily Whitman, free verse, Leaves of Grass, literature, poems, poetry, Transcendentalists, Walt Whitman. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.