:Down in Texas, the cotton-field, the negro-cabins—drivers driving mules or oxen before rude carts—cotton-bales piled on banks and wharves;

Encircling all, vast-darting, up and wide, the American Soul, with equal hemispheres—one Love, one Dilation or Pride;

In arriere, the peace-talk with the Iroquois, the aborigines—the calumet, the pipe of good-will arbitration, and indorsement,

The sachem blowing the smoke first toward the sun and then toward the earth,

The drama of the scalp-dance enacted with painted faces and guttural exclamations,

The setting out of the war-party—the long and stealthy march,

The single file—the swinging hatchets—the surprise and slaughter of enemies;

All the acts, scenes, ways, persons, attitudes of These States—reminiscences, all institutions,

All These States, compact—Every square mile of These States, without excepting a particle—you also—me also,

Me pleased, rambling in lanes and country fields, Paumanok's fields,

Me, observing the spiral flight of two little yellow butterflies, shuffling between each other, ascending high in the air;

The darting swallow, the destroyer of insects—the fall traveller southward, but returning northward early in the spring;

The country boy at the close of the day, driving the herd of cows, and shouting to them as they loiter to browse by the road-side;