The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat—the deck-hand 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, clean-blooded, singing with melodious voices, melodious thoughts.

2. Come! some of you! still be flooding The States with hundreds and thousands of mouth-songs, fit for The States only.

1. As I walk, solitary, unattended,

Around me I hear that eclat of the world—politics, produce,

The announcements of recognized things—science,

The approved growth of cities, and the spread of inventions.