Carl Sandburg

Masses

AMONG 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 Poor, patient and toiling; more patient than
    crags, tides, and stars; innumerable, patient as the
    darkness of night—and all broken, humble ruins of nations.
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