Coneflowers
I Hear America Singing
ByWalt Whitman
I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,
Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong,
The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam,
The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work,
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck,
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands,
The wood-cutter’s song, the ploughboy’s on his way in the morning, or at noon intermission or at sundown,
The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of the girl sewing or washing,
Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else,
The day what belongs to the day—at night the party of young fellows, robust, friendly,
Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs.
America, where each one can choose and have joy in the choosing.
Build ye houses, and dwell in them;
and plant gardens, and eat the fruit of them;
Take ye wives, and beget sons and daughters;
and take wives for your sons,
and give your daughters to husbands,
that they may bear sons and daughters;
that ye may be increased there, and not diminished.
And seek the peace of the city
whither I have caused you to be carried away captives,
and pray unto the LORD for it:
for in the peace thereof shall ye have peace.
Jeremiah 29:5-7
Trust God for your day. . . Today
With my prayers, desiring yours, Leslie
Thoughts of Grace 
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