I see the steppes of Asia, I see the tumuli of Mongolia, I see the tents of Kalmucks and Baskirs, I see the nomadic tribes with herds of oxen and cows, I see the table-lands notch’d with ravines, I see the jungles and deserts, I see the camel, the wild steed, the bustard, the fat-tail’d sheep, the antelope, and the burrowing wolf I see the highlands of Abyssinia, I see flocks of goats feeding, and see the fig-tree, tamarind, date, And see fields of teff-wheat and places of verdure and gold. I see the Brazilian vaquero, I see the Bolivian ascending mount Sorata, I see the Wacho crossing the plains, I see the incomparable rider of horses with his lasso on his arm, I see over the pampas the pursuit of wild cattle for their hides. 8 I see the regions of snow and ice, I see the sharp-eyed Samoiede and the Finn, I see the seal-seeker in his boat poising his lance, I see the Siberian on his slight-built sledge drawn by dogs, I see the porpoise-hunters, I see the whale-crews of the south Pacific and the north Atlantic, I see the cliffs, glaciers, torrents, valleys, of Switzerland--I mark the long winters and the isolation. I see the cities of the earth and make myself at random a part of them, I am a real Parisian, I am a habitan of Vienna, St. Petersburg, Berlin, Constantinople, I am of Adelaide, Sidney, Melbourne, I am of London, Manchester, Bristol, Edinburgh, Limerick, I am of Madrid, Cadiz, Barcelona, Oporto, Lyons, Brussels, Berne, Frankfort, Stuttgart, Turin, Florence, I belong in Moscow, Cracow, Warsaw, or northward in Christiania or Stockholm, or in Siberian Irkutsk, or in some street in Iceland, I descend upon all those cities, and rise from them again. 10 I see vapors exhaling from unexplored countries, I see the savage types, the bow and arrow, the poison’d splint, the fetich, and the obi. I see African and Asiatic towns, I see Algiers, Tripoli, Derne, Mogadore, Timbuctoo, Monrovia, I see the swarms of Pekin, Canton, Benares, Delhi, Calcutta, Tokio, I see the Kruman in his hut, and the Dahoman and Ashantee-man in their huts, I see the Turk smoking opium in Aleppo, I see the picturesque crowds at the fairs of Khiva and those of Herat, I see Teheran, I see Muscat and Medina and the intervening sands, see the caravans toiling onward, I see Egypt and the Egyptians, I see the pyramids and obelisks. I look on chisell’d histories, records of conquering kings, dynasties, cut in slabs of sand-stone, or on granite-blocks, I see at Memphis mummy-pits containing mummies embalm’d, swathed in linen cloth, lying there many centuries, I look on the fall’n Theban, the large-ball’d eyes, the side-drooping neck, the hands folded across the breast.