Election Day, November, 1884 + 

If I should need to name, O Western World, your powerfulest scene and show, + 

’Twould not be you, Niagara⁠—nor you, ye limitless prairies⁠—nor your huge rifts of canyons, Colorado, + 

Nor you, Yosemite⁠—nor Yellowstone, with all its spasmic geyser-loops ascending to the skies, appearing and disappearing, + 

Nor Oregon’s white cones⁠—nor Huron’s belt of mighty lakes⁠—nor Mississippi’s stream: + 

—This seething hemisphere’s humanity, as now, I’d name⁠—the still small voice vibrating⁠—America’s choosing day, + 

(The heart of it not in the chosen⁠—the act itself the main, the quadrennial choosing,) + 

The stretch of North and South arous’d⁠—sea-board and inland⁠—Texas to Maine⁠—the Prairie States⁠—Vermont, Virginia, California, + 

The final ballot-shower from East to West⁠—the paradox and conflict, + 

The countless snow-flakes falling⁠—(a swordless conflict, + 

Yet more than all Rome’s wars of old, or modern Napoleon’s:) the peaceful choice of all, + 

Or good or ill humanity⁠—welcoming the darker odds, the dross: + 

—Foams and ferments the wine? it serves to purify⁠—while the heart pants, life glows: + 

These stormy gusts and winds waft precious ships, + 

Swell’d Washington’s, Jefferson’s, Lincoln’s sails. + 