on short curly grass,
See, in my poems, cities, solid, vast, inland, with paved
     streets, with iron and stone edifices, ceaseless vehicles,
     and commerce,
See, the many-cylinder'd steam printing-press — see, the
     electric telegraph stretching across the continent,
See, through Atlantica's depths pulses American Europe
     reaching, pulses of Europe duly return'd,
See, the strong and quick locomotive as it departs, panting,
     blowing the steam-whistle,
See, ploughmen ploughing farms — see, miners digging mines
     — see, the numberless factories,

See, mechanics busy at their benches with tools — see from
     among them superior judges, philosophs, Presidents,
     emerge, drest in working dresses,
See, lounging through the shops and fields of the States, me
    well-belov'd, close-held by day and night,
Hear the loud echoes of my songs there — read the hints come
     at last.

O camerado close! O you and me at last, and us two only.
O a word to clear one's path ahead endlessly!
O something ecstatic and undemonstrable! O music wild!
O now I triumph — and you shall also;
O hand in hand — O wholesome pleasure — O one more
     desirer and lover!
O to haste firm holding — to haste, haste on with me.

1860 1881