Orange Buds by Mail from Florida
Walt Whitman
A lesser proof than old Voltaire's, yet greater,
Proof of this present time, and thee, thy broad expanse, America,
To my plain Northern hut, in outside clouds and snow,
Brought safely for a thousand miles o'er land and tide,
Some three days since on their own soil live-sprouting,
Now here their sweetness through my room unfolding,
A bunch of orange buds by mall from Florida.
As Walt Whitman brilliantly picks out in this poem, it is one of the remarkable things about the United States that you can leave snow storms in New York and be in balmy, orange-growing Florida a few hours later, and still be in the same country.
