On, on the Same, Ye Jocund Twain! + 

On, on the same, ye jocund twain! + 

My life and recitative, containing birth, youth, mid-age years, + 

Fitful as motley-tongues of flame, inseparably twined and merged in one⁠—combining all, + 

My single soul⁠—aims, confirmations, failures, joys⁠—Nor single soul alone, + 

I chant my nation’s crucial stage, (America’s, haply humanity’s)⁠—the trial great, the victory great, + 

A strange éclaircissement of all the masses past, the eastern world, the ancient, medieval, + 

Here, here from wanderings, strayings, lessons, wars, defeats⁠—here at the west a voice triumphant⁠—justifying all, + 

A gladsome pealing cry⁠—a song for once of utmost pride and satisfaction; + 

I chant from it the common bulk, the general average horde, (the best no sooner than the worst)⁠—And now I chant old age, + 

(My verses, written first for forenoon life, and for the summer’s, autumn’s spread, + 

I pass to snow-white hairs the same, and give to pulses winter-cool’d the same;) + 

As here in careless trill, I and my recitatives, with faith and love, + 

Wafting to other work, to unknown songs, conditions, + 

On, on, ye jocund twain! continue on the same! + 