As I Walk These Broad, Majestic Days. by Walt Whitman
AS I walk these broad, majestic days of peace, (For the war, the struggle of blood finishâ€™d, wherein, O terrific Ideal! Against vast odds, having gloriously won, Now thou stridest onâ€”yet perhaps in time toward denser wars, Perhaps to engage in time in still more dreadful contests, dangers, Longer campaigns and crises, labors beyond all others; â€”As I walk solitary, unattended, Around me I hear that eclat of the worldâ€”politics, produce, The announcements of recognized thingsâ€”science, The approved growth of cities, and the spread of inventions.
I see the ships, (they will last a few years,) The vast factories, with their foremen and workmen, And here the indorsement of all, and do not object to it.
But I too announce solid things; Science, ships, politics, cities, factories, are not nothingâ€”I watch them, Like a grand procession, to music of distant bugles, pouring, triumphantly movingâ€”and grander heaving in sight; They stand for realitiesâ€”all is as it should be.
For we support all, fuse all, After the rest is done and gone, we remain; There is no final reliance but upon us; Democracy rests finally upon us (I, my brethren, begin it,) And our visions sweep through eternity.