Where Is America?

Oh, where is America, is she now at home?
Or is she America wherever you roam?
Is she there above you in the steel that soars high,
Or is she inside you, as a thing that can’t die?

Is her justice in houses as you walk down the stret?
Is her presence seen, heard, in the tap of your feet?
Is her wisdom and beauty alive in the crowd?
Or is she within when you find you are proud?

Do you see her in farms that stretch far o’er the plains?
Do the mountains hold fast to the light that remains?
In streams to the sea does she still make her home?
Or is she America wherever you roam?

Politicians may speak and professors may teach,
But is she, America, in any of their reach?
And men may shoot fireworks, wave flags and salute,
Then vote for a tyrant and polish his boot.

But she is America, ideal of great men,
Bound never by city, port, canyon or glen.
Not a spot on the earth, nor a plan on a page,
She sings all without them her ever-young age:

Individual notes for individual rights—
This is her melody, these are her heights.
Oh, where is America, have you found her at home?
Or is she America wherever you roam?

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