All the Red Cross bands on Fifth avenue
And bugles in little home towns
And children's harmonicas bleating

America!

And after...
(Do you remember?)
The drollery of the wind on our faces,
And horizons reeling,
And the terror of the plain
Heaving like a gaunt pelvis to the sun...
Under us--threshing and twanging
Torn-up roots of the Song...

TO THE OTHERS

I see you, refulgent ones,
Burning so steadily
Like big white arc lights...
There are so many of you.
I like to watch you weaving--
Altogether and with precision
Each his ray--
Your tracery of light,
Making a shining way about America.

I note your infinite reactions--
In glassware
And sequin