I see before me now a traveling army halting,
             Below a fertile valley spread, with barns and the orchards of summer,
             Behind, the terraced sides of a mountain, abrupt, in places rising high,
             Broken, with rocks, with clinging cedars, with tall shapes dingily seen,
             The numerous camp—fires scatter’d near and far, some away up on the mountain,
             The shadowy forms of men and horses, looming, large—sized, flickering,
             And over all the sky—the sky! far, far out of reach, Studded, breaking out, the eternal stars.

  • 0
  • 0
  •  
  •  
Login to comment...
Email

Other works by Walt Whitman...

Some poets who follow Walt Whitman...

Francisco Ganem Victor Kane Isabela Bruna Angela Thomas LBH Juan González