Listen to:
Seasons Pursuing Each Other (1:23)
by Walt Whitman
performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode
Seasons pursuing each other the plougher ploughs, the mower
mows,
and the
winter-grain falls in the ground;
Off on the lakes the pike-fisher watches and waits by the
hole in
the frozen
surface,
The stumps stand thick round the clearing, the squatter
strikes deep
with his axe,
Flatboatmen make fast towards dusk near the cotton-wood or
pecan-trees,
Coon-seekers go through the regions of the Red river or
through
those drain'd by
the Tennessee, or through those of the Arkansas,
Torches shine in the dark that hangs on the Chattahooche or
Altamahaw,
Patriarchs sit at supper with sons and grandsons and
great-grandsons
around them,
In walls of adobie, in canvas tents, rest hunters and
trappers after
their day's sport,
The city sleeps and the country sleeps,
The living sleep for their time, the dead sleep for their
time,
The old husband sleeps by his wife and the young husband
sleeps by his wife;
And these tend inward to me, and I tend outward to them,
And such as it is to be of these more or less I am,
And of these one and all I weave the song of myself.
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