I hear America singing
By Walt Whitman
I Hear America Singing

I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear; Those of mechanics—each one singing his, as it should be,

blithe and strong;

The carpenter singing his, as he measures his plank or beam, The mason singing his, as he makes ready for work, or leaves

off work;

The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat—the

deckhand singing on the steamboat deck; The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench—the hatter

singing as he stands;

The wood-cutter’s song—the ploughboy’s, on his way in the

morning, or at the noon intermission, or at sundown; The delicious singing of the mother—or of the young wife at

work—or of the girl sewing or washing— Each singing what belongs to her, and to none else; The day what belongs to the day—

At night, the party of young fellows, robust, friendly, Singing, with open mouths, their strong melodious songs.