BANNER AND PENNANT.
Speak to the child, O bard, out of Manhattan;
Speak to our children all, or north or south of Manhattan,
Where our factory-engines hum, where our miners delve the ground,
Where our hoarse Niagara rumbles, where our prairie-ploughs are ploughing;
Speak, O bard! point this day, leaving all the rest, to us over all—and
yet we know not why;
For what are we, mere strips of cloth, profiting nothing,
Only flapping in the wind?
POET.
I hear and see not strips of cloth alone;
I hear the tramp of armies, I hear the challenging sentry;
I hear the jubilant shouts of millions of men—I hear LIBERTY!
I hear the drums beat, and the trumpets blowing;
I myself move abroad, swift-rising, flying then;
I use the wings of the land-bird, and use the wings of the sea-bird, and
look down as from a height.
I do not deny the precious results of peace—I see populous cities, with
wealth incalculable;
I see numberless farms—I see the farmers working in their fields or barns;
I see mechanics working—I see buildings everywhere founded, going up, or
finished;
I see trains of cars swiftly speeding along railroad tracks, drawn by the
locomotives;
I see the stores, depots, of Boston, Baltimore, Charleston, New Orleans;
I see far in the west the immense area of grain—I dwell a while, hovering;
I pass to the lumber forests of the north, and again to the southern
plantation, and again to California;
Sweeping the whole, I see the countless profit, the busy gatherings, earned
wages;
See the identity formed out of thirty-six spacious and haughty States, (and
many more to come;)
See forts on the shores of harbours—see ships sailing in and out;
Then over all, (aye! aye!) my little and lengthened pennant shaped like a
sword
Runs swiftly up, indicating war and defiance—And now the halyards have
raised it,
Side of my banner broad and blue—side of my starry banner,
Discarding peace over all the sea and land.