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Poem of the Road.
317

You ferries! you planks and posts of wharves! you
timber-lined sides! you distant ships!
You rows of houses ! you window-pierced façades!
you roofs!
You porches and entrances! you copings and iron
guards!
You windows whose transparent shells might expose
so much!
You doors and ascending steps! you arches!
You gray stones of interminable pavements! you trodden
crossings!
From all that has been near you I believe you have
imparted to yourselves, and now would impart
the same secretly to me,
From the living and the dead I think you have peopled
your impassive surfaces, and the spirits thereof
would be evident and amicable with me.

9.The earth expanding right hand and left hand,
The picture alive, every part in its best light,
The music falling in where it is wanted, and stopping
where it was not wanted,
The cheerful voice of the public road—the gay fresh
sentiment of the road.

10.O highway I travel! O public road! do you say to
me, Do not leave me?
Do you say, Venture not? If you leave me, you are
lost?
Do you say, I am already prepared—I am well-beaten
and undenied—adhere to me?

11.O public road! I say back, I am not afraid to leave
you—yet I love you,

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