Washington's Monument February, 1885

By Walt Whitman

1819-1892

Ah, not this marble, dead and cold:
Far from its base and shaft expanding--the round zones circling,
comprehending,
Thou, Washington, art all the world's, the continents' entire--not
yours alone, America,
Europe's as well, in every part, castle of lord or laborer's cot,
Or frozen North, or sultry South--the African's--the Arab's in his tent,
Old Asia's there with venerable smile, seated amid her ruins;
(Greets the antique the hero new? 'tis but the same--the heir
legitimate, continued ever,
The indomitable heart and arm--proofs of the never-broken line,
Courage, alertness, patience, faith, the same--e'en in defeat
defeated not, the same:)
Wherever sails a ship, or house is built on land, or day or night,
Through teeming cities' streets, indoors or out, factories or farms,
Now, or to come, or past--where patriot wills existed or exist,
Wherever Freedom, pois'd by Toleration, sway'd by Law,
Stands or is rising thy true monument.

DayPoems Poem No. 2190
<a href="http://www.daypoems.net/poems/2190.html">Washington's Monument February, 1885 by Walt Whitman</a>

The DayPoems Poetry Collection, www.daypoems.net
Timothy Bovee, editor

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