For the peace that is and the perils pass’d;

For the hope that is and the rest at last!

* * *

“A rush of rivers and a brush of trees,

A breath blown far from the Mexican seas,

And over the great heart-vein of earth!

.... By the South-Sun-land of the Cherokee,

By the scalp-lock-lodge of the tall Pawnee,

And up La Platte. What a weary dearth

Of the homes of men! What a wild delight