WALT WHITMAN
Come my tan-faced children,
Follow well in order, get your weapons ready,
Have you your pistols? Have you your sharp-edged axes?
Pioneers! O pioneers!
For we cannot tarry here,
We must march my darlings, we must [bear the brunt] of danger,
We the youthful [sinewy races], all the rest on us depend,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
O you youths, Western youths,