Wandering At Morn
By Walt Whitman
Wandering at morn, Emerging from the night, from gloomy thoughts, thee in my thoughts, Yearning for thee, harmonious Union! thee, Singing Bird divine! Thee, seated coil'd in evil times, my Country, with craft and black dismay, with every meanness, treason thrust upon thee; Wandering, this common marvel I beheld, the parent thrush I watch'd, feeding its young, (The singing thrush, whose tones of joy and faith ecstatic, Fail not to certify and cheer my soul.) There ponder'd, felt I, If worms, snakes, loathsome grubs, may to sweet spiritual songs be turn'd, If vermin so transposed, so used, so bless'd may be, Then may I trust in you, your fortunes, days, my country; Who knows that these may be the lessons fit for you? From these your future Song may rise, with joyous trills, Destin'd to fill the world.
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"Wandering at morn,..."
Exploring the themes of classic, Walt Whitman delivers a powerful performance in "Wandering At Morn"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...