AMERICA
Carl Sandburg
“And
so the pavilion of the four winds
Came
the little one they called America,
One
that suckled, struggled, toiled, laughed, grew.
America
began young the same as a baby.
The
little new republic had its swaddling cloths,
Its
child shirt, its tussle to knit long bone joints,
And
who can read the circle of its moon now?
And who shall tell beforehand the secrets of
its salts and blood?”