With his axe
High-piled farm-wagons, and the fruits and barns
And haze and vista, and the far horizon fading away
Thou that in all, and over all, and through and under all, incessant!
Thou, thou, the Ideal Man
Of the rifle-balls
Endless unfolding of words of ages!
Pioneers! O pioneers!
Expands my blood?
The present and future continents north and south, with the isthmus