A carol closing sixty-nine--a resume--a repetition,

My lines in joy and hope continuing on the same,

Of ye, O God, Life, Nature, Freedom, Poetry;

Of you, my Land--your rivers, prairies, States--you, mottled Flag I love,

Your aggregate retain'd entire--Of north, south, east and west, your

items all;

Of me myself--the jocund heart yet beating in my breast,

The body wreck'd, old, poor and paralyzed--the strange inertia

falling pall-like round me,

The burning fires down in my sluggish blood not yet extinct,

The undiminish'd faith--the groups of loving friends.