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The noiseless myriads, The infinite oceans where the rivers empty, The separate countless free identities

toward the Mexican sea, or in the Mannahatta or the Tennes- see Tennessee , or far north or inland, A river

FROM PENT-UP ACHING RIVERS.

FROM pent-up aching rivers, From that of myself without which I were nothing, From what I am determin'd

The curious sympathy one feels when feeling with the hand the naked meat of the body, The circling rivers

Through you I drain the pent-up rivers of myself, In you I wrap a thousand onward years, On you I graft

I will plant companionship thick as trees along all the rivers of America, and along the shores of the

We primeval forests felling, We the rivers stemming, vexing we and piercing deep the mines within, We

These shows of the East and West are tame compared to you, These immense meadows, these interminable rivers

Winds blowsouth, or winds blow north, Day come white, or night come black, Home, or rivers and mountains

SKIRTING the river road, (my forenoon walk, my rest,) Skyward in air a sudden muffled sound, the dalliance

mass tight grappling, In tumbling turning clustering loops, straight downward falling, Till o'er the river

pass through the city, and embark from the wharves, (How good they look as they tramp down to the river

descending the Alleghanies, Or down from the great lakes or in Pennsylvania, or on deck along the Ohio river

, Or southward along the Tennessee or Cumberland rivers, or at Chattanooga on the mountain top, Saw I

I saw him at the river-side, Down by the ferry lit by torches, hastening the embarcation; My General

copy the story, and send it eastward and westward, I must preserve that look as it beam'd on you rivers

the pale green leaves of the trees prolific, In the distance the flowing glaze, the breast of the river

of clover and timothy, Kine and horses feeding, and droves of sheep and swine, And many a stately river

wharves, the huge crossing at the ferries, The village on the highland seen from afar at sunset, the river

Nor by your streams alone, you rivers, By you, your banks Connecticut, By you and all your teeming life

friendship, procrea- tion procreation , prudence, and nakedness, After treading ground and breasting river

running Missouri, praise nothing in art or aught else, Till it has well inhaled the atmosphere of this river

sibilant chorals, Footsteps gently ascending, mystical breezes wafted soft and low, Ripples of unseen rivers

O dear to me my birth-things—all moving things and the trees where I was born—the grains, plants, rivers

, Dear to me my own slow sluggish rivers where they flow, distant, over flats of silvery sands or through

the jobbers' houses of business, the houses of business of the ship-merchants and money-brokers, the river-streets

sun shining, and the sailing clouds aloft, The winter snows, the sleigh-bells, the broken ice in the river

you airs that swim above lightly impalpable, And all you essences of soil and growth, and you my rivers

The noiseless myriads, The infinite oceans where the rivers empty, The separate countless free identities

toward the Mexican sea, or in the Mannahatta or the Tennes- see Tennessee , or far north or inland, A river

See, your own shape and countenance, persons, substances, beasts, the trees, the running rivers, the

Mississippian and Arkansian yet with me, and I yet with any of them, Yet upon the plains west of the spinal river

fast towards dusk near the cotton-wood or pecan-trees, Coon-seekers go through the regions of the Red river

Earth of shine and dark mottling the tide of the river!

the trees of a new purchase, Scorch'd ankle-deep by the hot sand, hauling my boat down the shallow river

from the rocks of the river, swinging and chirping over my head, Calling my name from flower-beds, vines

From Pent-Up Aching Rivers. FROM PENT-UP ACHING RIVERS.

FROM pent-up aching rivers, From that of myself without which I were nothing, From what I am determin'd

The curious sympathy one feels when feeling with the hand the naked meat of the body, The circling rivers

Through you I drain the pent-up rivers of myself, In you I wrap a thousand onward years, On you I graft

Earth of shine and dark mottling the tide of the river!

FROM PENT-UP ACHING RIVERS.

I see the long river-stripes of the earth, I see the Amazon and the Paraguay, I see the four great rivers

River and sunset and scallop-edg'd waves of flood-tide?

O boating on the rivers, The voyage down the St.

I will plant companionship thick as trees along all the rivers of America, and along the shores of the

What rivers are these? what forests and fruits are these?

I see the long river-stripes of the earth, I see the Amazon and the Paraguay, I see the four great rivers

of China, the Amour, the Yellow River, the Yiang-tse, and the Pearl, I see where the Seine flows, and

blown with you you winds; You waters I have finger'd every shore with you, I have run through what any river

like beads on my smallest sights and hearings, on the walk in the street and the passage over the river

and women of a generation, or ever so many generations hence, Just as you feel when you look on the river

I too many and many a time cross'd the river of old, Watched the Twelfth-month sea-gulls, saw them high

River and sunset and scallop-edg'd waves of flood-tide?

9 Flow on, river! flow with the flood-tide, and ebb with the ebb- tide ebbtide !

, The eighteen thousand miles of sea-coast and bay-coast on the main, the thirty thousand miles of river

unno- ticed unnoticed , Through Mannahatta's streets I walking, these things gathering, On interior rivers

returning after a long absence, joy- fully joyfully welcom'd and kiss'd by the aged mulatto nurse, On rivers

there atwixt the banks of the Arkansaw, the Rio Grande, the Nueces, the Brazos, the Tombigbee, the Red River

O boating on the rivers, The voyage down the St.

sweet potato, Welcome are mountains, flats, sands, forests, prairies, Welcome the rich borders of rivers

bridges, vast frameworks, girders, arches, Shapes of the fleets of barges, tows, lake and canal craft, river

of clover and timothy, Kine and horses feeding, and droves of sheep and swine, And many a stately river

wharves, the huge crossing at the ferries, The village on the highland seen from afar at sunset, the river

Nor by your streams alone, you rivers, By you, your banks Connecticut, By you and all your teeming life

friendship, procrea- tion procreation , prudence, and nakedness, After treading ground and breasting river

running Missouri, praise nothing in art or aught else, Till it has well inhaled the atmosphere of this river

composers—you choruses, You formless, free, religious dances—you from the Orient, You undertone of rivers

sage-deserts, I see in glimpses afar or towering immediately above me the great mountains, I see the Wind river

Elk mountain and wind around its base, I see the Humboldt range, I thread the valley and cross the river

Cooling airs from Caucasus far, soothing cradle of man, The river Euphrates flowing, the past lit up

O winding creeks and rivers! Of you O woods and fields! of you strong mountains of my land!

Cold dash of waves at the ferry-wharf, posh and ice in the river, half-frozen mud in the streets, A gray

sibilant chorals, Footsteps gently ascending, mystical breezes wafted soft and low, Ripples of unseen rivers

pass through the city, and embark from the wharves, (How good they look as they tramp down to the river

descending the Alleghanies, Or down from the great lakes or in Pennsylvania, or on deck along the Ohio river

, Or southward along the Tennessee or Cumberland rivers, or at Chattanooga on the mountain top, Saw I

brown and spreading land, and the mines below, are ours, And the shores of the sea are ours, and the rivers

forts appear again, the old hoop'd guns are mounted, I see the lines of rais'd earth stretching from river

I saw him at the river-side, Down by the ferry lit by torches, hastening the embarcation; My General

copy the story, and send it eastward and westward, I must preserve that look as it beam'd on you rivers

take a serpentine course, their arms flash in the sun—hark to the musical clank, Behold the silvery river

baffled; Not the pathfinder penetrating inland weary and long, By deserts parch'd, snows chill'd, rivers

loudly shout in the rush of successful charge, Enter the captur'd works—yet lo, like a swift-running river

the pale green leaves of the trees prolific, In the distance the flowing glaze, the breast of the river

and demerits, Making its cities, beginnings, events, diversities, wars, vocal in him, Making its rivers

the mothers of families, Read these leaves to myself in the open air, tried them by trees, stars, rivers

para- dises paradises of the Pacific, Populous cities, the latest inventions, the steamers on the rivers

vast native thoughts looking through smutch'd faces, Iron-works, forge-fires in the mountains or by river-banks

We primeval forests felling, We the rivers stemming, vexing we and piercing deep the mines within, We

These shows of the East and West are tame compared to you, These immense meadows, these interminable rivers

from the Altay moun- tains mountains , From Thibet Tibet , from the four winding and far-flowing rivers

Winds blowsouth, or winds blow north, Day come white, or night come black, Home, or rivers and mountains