Keep your splendid silent sun, Keep your woods O Nature, and the quiet places by the woods, Keep your fields of clover and timothy, and your corn-fields and orchards, Keep the blossoming buckwheat fields where the Ninth-month bees hum; Give me faces and streets⁠—give me these phantoms incessant and endless along the trottoirs! Give me interminable eyes⁠—give me women⁠—give me comrades and lovers by the thousand! Let me see new ones every day⁠—let me hold new ones by the hand every day! Give me such shows⁠—give me the streets of Manhattan! Give me Broadway, with the soldiers marching⁠—give me the sound of the trumpets and drums! (The soldiers in companies or regiments⁠—some starting away, flush’d and reckless, Some, their time up, returning with thinn’d ranks, young, yet very old, worn, marching, noticing nothing;) Give me the shores and wharves heavy-fringed with black ships! O such for me! O an intense life, full to repletion and varied!