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Leaves of Grass (1881-82)
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SPIRIT THAT FORM'D THIS SCENE.
Written in Platte Cañon, Colorado.
SPIRIT that form'd this scene, |
These tumbled rock-piles grim and red, |
These reckless heaven-ambitious peaks, |
These gorges, turbulent-clear streams, this naked freshness, |
These formless wild arrays, for reasons of their own, |
I know thee, savage spirit—we have communed together, |
Mine too such wild arrays, for reasons of their own; |
Was't charged against my chants they had forgotten art? |
To fuse within themselves its rules precise and delicatesse? |
The lyrist's measur'd beat, the wrought-out temple's grace—
column and polish'd arch forgot?
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But thou that revelest here—spirit that form'd this scene, |
They have remember'd thee. |
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