
Those of mechanics--each one singing his, as it should be, blithe and
strong;
The carpenter singing his, as he measures his plank or beam,
The mason singing his, as he makes ready for work, or leaves off
work;
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat--the deckhand
singing on the steamboat deck;
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench--the hatter singing as
he stands;
The wood-cutter's song--the ploughboy's, on his way in the morning,
or at the noon intermission, or at sundown;
The delicious singing of the mother--or of the young wife at work--or
of the girl sewing or washing--Each singing what belongs to
her, and to none else;
The day what belongs to the day--At night, the party of young
fellows, robust, friendly,
Singing, with open mouths, their strong melodious songs."
Whitman is an everyday Joe off the street with a respect for others like himself. Here he writes of the working class of America, the woodcutters, the mechanics, the carpenters and the masons. The people that are truly the backbone of this country and made it what it is today. Whitman recognizes that without these people, there would never be a rebellion against the British and never be an America.
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