The Prairie States

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by Walt Whitman

    A newer garden of creation, no primal solitude,
    Dense, joyous, modern, populous millions, cities and farms,
    With iron interlaced, composite, tied, many in one,
    By all the world contributed--freedom's and law's and thrift's society,
    The crown and teeming paradise, so far, of time's accumulations,
    To justify the past.

 

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