12
Lo, body and soul—this land,
My own Manhattan with spires, and
the sparkling and hurrying tides,
and the ships,
The varied and ample land, the South
and the North in the light, Ohio's
shores and flashing Missouri,
And ever the far-spreading prairies
cover'd with grass and corn.
Lo, the most excellent sun so calm and
haughty,
The violet and purple morn with just-felt
breezes,
The gentle soft-born measureless light.
The miracle spreading bathing all, the
fulfill'd noon,
The coming eve delicious, the welcome
night and the stars,
Over my cities shining all, enveloping
man and land.