Spirit That Form'd Theis Scene

Walt Whitman

   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?                                    10
   But thou that revelest here--spirit that form'd this scene,
   They have remember'd thee.

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