Leaves Of Grass. A Carol Of Harvest For 1867 Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABC DEF GCHIH JKLH MNOPQRAANSAAAA TAEUAVWXYHZHAWA2NEAZ ASB2C2E D2AZ E2D2 EAF2 AAD2AG2H2 WI2AHHD2J2SK2F2 ANAL2 J2AW E2AM2AH AWN2 AAO2A ASP2Q2R2 S2S2AWT2 AAH AAD2A2A PEH HVA AA U2EA NV2WHWEAEA AU2G2 W2G2 VAANAA| A SONG of the good green grass | A |
| A song no more of the city streets | B |
| A song of farms a song of the soil of fields | C |
| - | |
| A song with the smell of sun dried hay where the nimble pitchers | D |
| handle the pitch fork | E |
| A song tasting of new wheat and of fresh husk'd maize | F |
| - | |
| - | |
| For the lands and for these passionate days and for myself | G |
| Now I awhile return to thee O soil of Autumn fields | C |
| Reclining on thy breast giving myself to thee | H |
| Answering the pulses of thy sane and equable heart | I |
| Tuning a verse for thee | H |
| - | |
| O Earth that hast no voice confide to me a voice | J |
| O harvest of my lands O boundless summer growths | K |
| O lavish brown parturient earth O infinite teeming womb | L |
| A verse to seek to see to narrate thee | H |
| - | |
| - | |
| Ever upon this stage | M |
| Is acted God's calm annual drama | N |
| Gorgeous processions songs of birds | O |
| Sunrise that fullest feeds and freshens most the soul | P |
| The heaving sea the waves upon the shore the musical strong waves | Q |
| The woods the stalwart trees the slender tapering trees | R |
| The flowers the grass the lilliput countless armies of the grass | A |
| The heat the showers the measureless pasturages | A |
| The scenery of the snows the winds' free orchestra | N |
| The stretching light hung roof of clouds the clear cerulean and | S |
| the bulging silvery fringes | A |
| The high dilating stars the placid beckoning stars | A |
| The moving flocks and herds the plains and emerald meadows | A |
| The shows of all the varied lands and all the growths and products | A |
| - | |
| - | |
| Fecund America To day | T |
| Thou art all over set in births and joys | A |
| Thou groan'st with riches thy wealth clothes thee as with a swathing | E |
| garment | U |
| Thou laughest loud with ache of great possessions | A |
| A myriad twining life like interlacing vines binds all thy vast | V |
| demesne | W |
| As some huge ship freighted to water's edge thou ridest into port | X |
| As rain falls from the heaven and vapors rise from earth so have | Y |
| the precious values fallen upon thee and risen out of thee | H |
| Thou envy of the globe thou miracle | Z |
| Thou bathed choked swimming in plenty | H |
| Thou lucky Mistress of the tranquil barns | A |
| Thou Prairie Dame that sittest in the middle and lookest out upon | W |
| thy world and lookest East and lookest West | A2 |
| Dispensatress that by a word givest a thousand miles that giv'st a | N |
| million farms and missest nothing | E |
| Thou All Acceptress thou Hospitable thou only art hospitable as | A |
| God is hospitable | Z |
| - | |
| - | |
| When late I sang sad was my voice | A |
| Sad were the shows around me with deafening noises of hatred and | S |
| smoke of conflict | B2 |
| In the midst of the armies the Heroes I stood | C2 |
| Or pass'd with slow step through the wounded and dying | E |
| - | |
| But now I sing not War | D2 |
| Nor the measur'd march of soldiers nor the tents of camps | A |
| Nor the regiments hastily coming up deploying in line of battle | Z |
| - | |
| No more the dead and wounded | E2 |
| No more the sad unnatural shows of War | D2 |
| - | |
| Ask'd room those flush'd immortal ranks the first forth stepping | E |
| armies | A |
| Ask room alas the ghastly ranks the armies dread that follow'd | F2 |
| - | |
| - | |
| Pass pass ye proud brigades | A |
| So handsome dress'd in blue with your tramping sinewy legs | A |
| With your shoulders young and strong with your knapsacks and your | D2 |
| muskets | A |
| How elate I stood and watch'd you where starting off you | G2 |
| march'd | H2 |
| - | |
| Pass then rattle drums again | W |
| Scream you steamers on the river out of whistles loud and shrill | I2 |
| your salutes | A |
| For an army heaves in sight O another gathering army | H |
| Swarming trailing on the rear O you dread accruing army | H |
| O you regiments so piteous with your mortal diarrhoea with your | D2 |
| fever | J2 |
| O my land's maimed darlings with the plenteous bloody bandage and | S |
| the crutch | K2 |
| Lo your pallid army follow'd | F2 |
| - | |
| - | |
| But on these days of brightness | A |
| On the far stretching beauteous landscape the roads and lanes the | N |
| high piled farm wagons and the fruits and barns | A |
| Shall the dead intrude | L2 |
| - | |
| Ah the dead to me mar not they fit well in Nature | J2 |
| They fit very well in the landscape under the trees and grass | A |
| And along the edge of the sky in the horizon's far margin | W |
| - | |
| Nor do I forget you departed | E2 |
| Nor in winter or summer my lost ones | A |
| But most in the open air as now when my soul is rapt and at | M2 |
| peace like pleasing phantoms | A |
| Your dear memories rising glide silently by me | H |
| - | |
| - | |
| I saw the day the return of the Heroes | A |
| Yet the Heroes never surpass'd shall never return | W |
| Them that day I saw not | N2 |
| - | |
| I saw the interminable Corps I saw the processions of armies | A |
| I saw them approaching defiling by with divisions | A |
| Streaming northward their work done camping awhile in clusters of | O2 |
| mighty camps | A |
| - | |
| No holiday soldiers youthful yet veterans | A |
| Worn swart handsome strong of the stock of homestead and | S |
| workshop | P2 |
| Harden'd of many a long campaign and sweaty march | Q2 |
| Inured on many a hard fought bloody field | R2 |
| - | |
| - | |
| A pause the armies wait | S2 |
| A million flush'd embattled conquerors wait | S2 |
| The world too waits then soft as breaking night and sure as | A |
| dawn | W |
| They melt they disappear | T2 |
| - | |
| Exult indeed O lands victorious lands | A |
| Not there your victory on those red shuddering fields | A |
| But here and hence your victory | H |
| - | |
| Melt melt away ye armies disperse ye blue clad soldiers | A |
| Resolve ye back again give up for good your deadly arms | A |
| Other the arms the fields henceforth for you or South or North or | D2 |
| East or West | A2 |
| With saner wars sweet wars life giving wars | A |
| - | |
| - | |
| Loud O my throat and clear O soul | P |
| The season of thanks and the voice of full yielding | E |
| The chant of joy and power for boundless fertility | H |
| - | |
| All till'd and untill'd fields expand before me | H |
| I see the true arenas of my race or first or last | V |
| Man's innocent and strong arenas | A |
| - | |
| I see the Heroes at other toils | A |
| I see well wielded in their hands the better weapons | A |
| - | |
| - | |
| I see where America Mother of All | U2 |
| Well pleased with full spanning eye gazes forth dwells long | E |
| And counts the varied gathering of the products | A |
| - | |
| Busy the far the sunlit panorama | N |
| Prairie orchard and yellow grain of the North | V2 |
| Cotton and rice of the South and Louisianian cane | W |
| Open unseeded fallows rich fields of clover and timothy | H |
| Kine and horses feeding and droves of sheep and swine | W |
| And many a stately river flowing and many a jocund brook | E |
| And healthy uplands with their herby perfumed breezes | A |
| And the good green grass that delicate miracle the ever recurring | E |
| grass | A |
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| Toil on Heroes harvest the products | A |
| Not alone on those warlike fields the Mother of All | U2 |
| With dilated form and lambent eyes watch'd you | G2 |
| - | |
| Toil on Heroes toil well Handle the weapons well | W2 |
| The Mother of All yet here as ever she watches you | G2 |
| - | |
| Well pleased America thou beholdest | V |
| Over the fields of the West those crawling monsters | A |
| The human divine inventions the labor saving implements | A |
| Beholdest moving in every direction imbued as with life the | N |
| revolving hay rakes | A |
| The steam power reaping machines and the horse power machines | A |
| The engines thrashers of grain and cleaners of grain w | - |
Walt Whitman
(1)
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About Leaves Of Grass. A Carol Of Harvest For 1867
Leaves Of Grass. A Carol Of Harvest For 1867 is a poem by Walt Whitman. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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