,?!?
peace! peace! Orestes-like i breathe this prayer! descend with broad-winged flight, the welcome, the thrice-prayed fOr, the most fair, the best-beloved night! ! (?Orestes?agamemnon?clytemnestra? electra)
Ah! what pleasant visions haunt me As I gaze upon the sea! All the old romantic legends, All my dreams, come back to me. Sails of silk and ropes of sandal, Such as gleam in ancient lore; And the singing of the sailors, And the answer from the shore! Most of all, the Spanish ballad haunts me oft, and tarries long, Of the noble Count Arnaldos And the sailor's mystic song. Like the long waves on a sea-beach, Where the sand as silver Shines, With a soft, monotonous cadence, flow its unrhymed lyric lines; Telling how the Count Arnaldos, With his hawk upon his hand, Saw a fair and stately galley, Steering onward to the land; How he heard the ancient helmsman Chant a song so wild and clear, That the sailing sea-bird slowly Poised upon the mast to hear. Till his soul was full of longing, And he cried, with impulse strong, "Helmsman, for the love of heaven, Teach me, too, that wondrous song!" "Wouldst thou," so the helmsman answered, "Learn the secret of the sea? Only those brave its dangers Comprehend its mystery!" In each sail it skims the horizon, In each landward-blowing breeze, Till my soul is full of longing I behold that stately galley, Hear those mournful melodies; For the secret of the sea, And the heart of the great ocean Sends a thrilling pulse through me. This is my Letter to the World This is my Letter to the World That never wrote to Me? The simple News that Nature told? With tender Majesty Her Message is committed To hands I can not see? For love of Her?Sweet?countrymen? Judge tenderly?of Me I Hear America singing by Walt Whitman I Hear America singing, the varied carols I hear; Those of mechanics--each one singing 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.