Beginners
How they are provided for upon the earth, (appearing at intervals,) / How dear and dreadful they are to the earth,
By that long scan of waves, myself call'd back, resumed upon myself,
In every crest some undulating light or shade--some retrospect,
Joys, travels, studies, silent panoramas--scenes ephemeral,
The long past war, the battles, hospital sights, the wounded and the dead,
Myself through every by-gone phase--my idle youth--old age at hand,
My three-score years of life summ'd up, and more, and past,
By any grand ideal tried, intentionless, the whole a nothing,
And haply yet some drop within God's scheme's ensemble--some
wave, or part of wave,
Like one of yours, ye multitudinous ocean.
How they are provided for upon the earth, (appearing at intervals,) / How dear and dreadful they are to the earth,
Aboard at a ship's helm, / A young steersman steering with care.
Hush'd be the camps to-day, / And soldiers let us drape our war-worn weapons,
I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear, / Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong,