Monday, September 05, 2011

For Labor Day

I HEAR America singing, the varied carols I hear; Those of mechanics-- each one singin his, as it should be, blithe and strong; The carpenter singing his, as he measures his plank or beam, The mason singing his, as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work; The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat-- the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck; The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench-- the hatter singing as he stands; The wood-cutter's song-- the ploughboy's, on his way in the morning, or at the noon intermission, or at sundown; The delicious singing of the mother-- or of the young wife at work-- or of the girl sewing or washing-- Each singing what belongs to her, and to none else; The day what belongs to the day-- At night, the party of young fellows, robust, friendly, Singing, with open mouths, their strong melodious songs. --Walt Whitman (1819-1892)

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