warriors, the castes,
    all,
Trooping up, crowding from all directions, from the Altay mountains,
From Thibet, from the four winding and far-flowing rivers of China,
From the southern peninsulas and the demi-continental islands, from
    Malaysia,
These and whatever belongs to them palpable show forth to me, and
    are seiz’d by me,
And I am seiz’d by them, and friendlily held by them,
Till as here them all I chant, Libertad! for themselves and for you.

For I too raising my voice join the ranks of this pageant,
I am the chanter, I chant aloud over the pageant,
I chant the world on my Western sea,
I chant copious the islands beyond, thick as stars in the sky,
I chant the new empire grander than any before, as in a vision it
    comes to me,
I chant America the mistress, I chant a greater supremacy,
I chant projected a thousand blooming cities yet in time on those
    groups of sea-islands,
My sail-ships and steam-ships threading the archipelagoes,
My stars and stripes fluttering in the wind,
Commerce opening, the sleep of ages having done its work, races
    reborn, refresh’d,
Lives, works resumed—­the object I know not—­but the old, the Asiatic
    renew’d as it must be,
Commencing from this day surrounded by the world.

     3
And you Libertad of the world! 
You shall sit in the middle well-pois’d thousands and thousands of years, As to-day from one side the nobles of Asia come to you, As to-morrow from the other side the queen of England sends her
    eldest son to you.

The sign is reversing, the orb is enclosed,
The ring is circled, the journey is done,
The box-lid is but perceptibly open’d, nevertheless the perfume
    pours copiously out of the whole box.

Young Libertad! with the venerable Asia, the all-mother,
Be considerate with her now and ever hot Libertad, for you are all,
Bend your proud neck to the long-off mother now sending messages
    over the archipelagoes to you,
Bend your proud neck low for once, young Libertad.

Here the children straying westward so long? so wide the tramping? 
Were the precedent dim ages debouching westward from Paradise so long? 
Were the centuries steadily footing it that way, all the while
    unknown, for you, for reasons?

They are justified, they are accomplish’d, they shall now be turn’d
    the other way also, to travel toward you thence,
They shall now also march obediently eastward for your sake Libertad.

[Book XIX.  Sea-drift]

} Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking

Out of the cradle endlessly rocking,
Out of the mocking-bird’s throat, the musical shuttle,
Out of the Ninth-month midnight,
Over the sterile sands and the fields beyond, where the child
    leaving his bed wander’d alone, bareheaded, barefoot,