Poetry Archives

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.