A
poem by
Carl Sandburg
AMOUNG the
mountains I wandered and saw
blue haze and
red crag and was
amazed;
On the
beach where the long push under the endless
tide
maneuvers, I stood
silent;
Under the
stars on the
prairie watching the
Dipper slant
over the horizon's grass, I was full of thoughts.
Great men, pageants of
war and labor,
soldiers and workers,
mothers lifting their
children--these all I
touched, and felt the solemn
thrill of them.
And then one day I got a true look at the
Poor, millions
of the Porr,
patient and
toiling; more patient than
crags, tides, and stars; innumerable, patient as the
darkness of night--and all broken, humble
ruins of nations.