Walt Whitman (1819–1892). Leaves of Grass. 1900.

154. Turn, O Libertad

TURN, O Libertad, for the war is over,

(From it and all henceforth expanding, doubting no more, resolute, sweeping the world,)

Turn from lands retrospective, recording proofs of the past;

From the singers that sing the trailing glories of the past;

From the chants of the feudal world—the triumphs of kings, slavery, caste;

Turn to the world, the triumphs reserv’d and to come—give up that backward world;

Leave to the singers of hitherto—give them the trailing past;

But what remains, remains for singers for you—wars to come are for you;

(Lo! how the wars of the past have duly inured to you—and the wars of the present also inure:)

—Then turn, and be not alarm’d, O Libertad—turn your undying face,

To where the future, greater than all the past,

Is swiftly, surely preparing for you.