University of Virginia Library

THESE, I, singing in spring, collect for lovers,
(For who but I should understand lovers, and all their      sorrow and joy?
And who but I should be the poet of comrades?)
Collecting, I traverse the garden, the world — but soon      I pass the gates,
Now along the pond-side — now wading in a little,      fearing not the wet,
Now by the post-and-rail fences, where the old stones      thrown there, pick'd from the fields, have accu-     mulated,
Wild-flowers and vines and weeds come up through      the stones, and partly cover them — Beyond      these I pass,
Far, far in the forest, before I think where I go,
Solitary, smelling the earthy smell, stopping now and      then in the silence,
Alone I had thought — yet soon a silent troop gathers      around me,
Some walk by my side, and some behind, and some      embrace my arms or neck,
They, the spirits of friends, dead or alive — thicker      they come, a great crowd, and I in the middle,
Collecting, dispensing, singing in spring, there I wan-     der with them,
Plucking something for tokens — tossing toward who-     ever is near me;
Here! lilac, with a branch of pine,
Here out of my pocket, some moss which I pull'd off      a live-oak in Florida, as it hung trailing down,
Here, some pinks and laurel leaves, and a handful of      sage,
And here what I now draw from the water, wading in      the pond-side,
(O here I last saw him that tenderly loves me — and      returns again, never to separate from me,
And this, O this shall henceforth be the token of com-     rades — this Calamus-root shall,
Interchange it, youths, with each other! Let none      render it back!)
And twigs of maple, and a bunch of wild orange, and      chestnut,
And stems of currants, and plum-blows, and the aro-     matic cedar:
These, I, compass'd around by a thick cloud of spirits,
Wandering, point to, or touch as I pass, or throw them      loosely from me,
Indicating to each one what he shall have — giving      something to each;
But what I drew from the water by the pond-side,      that I reserve,
I will give of it — but only to them that love, as I my-     self am capable of loving.