While I watch the highroad

And look at the sky,

While I watch the clouds in amazing grandeur

Roll their legions without rain

Over the blistering Kansas plain --

While I sit by the milestone

And watch the sky,

The United States

Goes by.

# To be given very harshly,

with a snapping explosiveness. #

Listen to the iron-horns, ripping, racking.

Listen to the quack-horns, slack and clacking.

Way down the road, trilling like a toad,

Here comes the *dice*-horn, here comes the *vice*-horn,

Here comes the *snarl*-horn, *brawl*-horn, *lewd*-horn,

Followed by the *prude*-horn, bleak and squeaking: --

(Some of them from Kansas, some of them from Kansas.)

Here comes the *hod*-horn, *plod*-horn, *sod*-horn,

Nevermore-to-*roam*-horn, *loam*-horn, *home*-horn.

(Some of them from Kansas, some of them from Kansas.)

# To be read or sung, well-nigh in a whisper. #

Far away the Rachel-Jane

Not defeated by the horns

Sings amid a hedge of thorns: --

"Love and life,

Eternal youth --

Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet,

Dew and glory,

Love and truth,

Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet."

# Louder and louder, faster and faster. #

WHILE SMOKE-BLACK FREIGHTS ON THE DOUBLE-TRACKED RAILROAD,

DRIVEN AS THOUGH BY THE FOUL-FIEND'S OX-GOAD,

SCREAMING TO THE WEST COAST, SCREAMING TO THE EAST,

CARRY OFF A HARVEST, BRING BACK A FEAST,

HARVESTING MACHINERY AND HARNESS FOR THE BEAST.

THE HAND-CARS WHIZ, AND RATTLE ON THE RAILS,

THE SUNLIGHT FLASHES ON THE TIN DINNER-PAILS.

# In a rolling bass, with increasing deliberation. #

And then, in an instant,

Ye modern men,

Behold the procession once again,

# With a snapping explosiveness. #

Listen to the iron-horns, ripping, racking,

Listen to the *wise*-horn, desperate-to-*advise*-horn,

Listen to the *fast*-horn, *kill*-horn, *blast*-horn. . . .

# To be sung or read well-nigh in a whisper. #

Far away the Rachel-Jane

Not defeated by the horns

Sings amid a hedge of thorns: --

Love and life,

Eternal youth,

Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet,

Dew and glory,

Love and truth.

Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet.

# To be brawled in the beginning with a

snapping explosiveness, ending in a languorous chant. #

The mufflers open on a score of cars

With wonderful thunder,

CRACK, CRACK, CRACK,

CRACK-CRACK, CRACK-CRACK,

CRACK-CRACK-CRACK, . . .

Listen to the gold-horn . . .

Old-horn . . .

Cold-horn . . .

And all of the tunes, till the night comes down

On hay-stack, and ant-hill, and wind-bitten town.

# To be sung to exactly the same whispered tune

as the first five lines. #

Then far in the west, as in the beginning,

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