From Leaves of Grass
, by Walt Whitman
(O the black ships! O the fierce ships!
O the beautiful sharp-bow'd steam-ships and sail
City of the world! (for all races are here,
All the lands of the earth
make contributions here;)
City of the sea! city of hurried and glitter
City whose gleeful tides continually rush or recede, whirling
in and out with eddies and foam
City of wharves and stores — city of tall façades of marble
Proud and passionate
city — mettlesome, mad, extravagant
Spring up O city — not for peace
alone, but be indeed yourself,
Fear not — submit to no models but your own O city!
Behold me — incarnate me as I have incarnated you!
I have rejected nothing you offer'd me — whom you adopted I have adopted,
Good or bad I never question you — I love all — I do not condemn anything,
I chant and celebrate all that is yours — yet peace no more,
In peace I chanted peace, but now the drum
of war is mine,
War, red war is my song through your streets, O city!