Loud, O my throat, and clear, O soul! The season of thanks, and the voice of full-yielding; The chant of joy and power for boundless fertility. All till’d and untill’d fields expand before me; I see the true arenas of my race -- or first, or last, Man’s innocent and strong arenas. I see the Heroes at other toils; I see, well-wielded in their hands, the better weapons.
About the headline (FAQ)
Confirmed with Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass, Philadelphia: David McKay, c1900.
- by Walt Whitman (1819 - 1892), no title, appears in Leaves of Grass, in A Carol of Harvest, for 1867, no. 10 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- [ None yet in the database ]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2022-04-18
Line count: 8
Word count: 67