| Carl Sandburg (1878–1967). Chicago Poems. 1916. |
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| 3. Masses |
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| AMONG the mountains I wandered and saw blue haze and red crag and was amazed; | |
| On the beach where the long push under the endless tide maneuvers, I stood silent; | |
| Under the stars on the prairie watching the Dipper slant over the horizon’s grass, I was full of thoughts. | |
| Great men, pageants of war and labor, soldiers and workers, mothers lifting their children—these all I touched, and felt the solemn thrill of them. | |
| And then one day I got a true look at the Poor, millions of the Poor, patient and toiling; more patient than crags, tides, and stars; innumerable, patient as the darkness of night—and all broken, humble ruins of nations. | 5 |
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