Long, too Long, O Land! by Walt Whitman

LONG, too long, O land,
Traveling roads all even and peaceful, you learn’d from joys and prosperity only;
But now, ah now, to learn from crises of anguish—advancing, grappling with direst
recoiling not;
And now to conceive, and show to the world, what your children en-masse really are;
(For who except myself has yet conceiv’d what your children en-masse really are?)

by Walt Whitman

Other poems by 'Walt Whitman'

Walt Whitman.

Song at Sunset.

Ashes of Soldiers.



I Hear America Singing.

When Lilacs Last in the Door-yard Bloom’d.

To Foreign Lands.

Adieu to a Soldier.

In Midnight Sleep.

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