LONG, TOO LONG, O LAND. 
LONG, too long, O land, 	
Traveling roads all even and peaceful, you learn'd from 
         joys and prosperity only; 	
But now, ah now, to learn from crises of anguish—ad- 
         vancing, grappling with direst fate, and recoiling 
         not; 	
And now to conceive, and show to the world, what your 
         children en-masse really are; 	
(For who except myself has yet conceived what your 
         children en-masse really are?)