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Leaves of Grass :[1891]

Including Sands at Seventy...1st Annex, Good-Bye my Fancy...2d Annex, A Backward Glance o'er Travel'd Roads, and Portrait from Life
Whitman, Walt (1819-1892)

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INSCRIPTIONS.
  
ONE'S-SELF I SING.
  
AS I PONDER'D IN SILENCE.
  
IN CABIN'D SHIPS AT SEA.
  
TO FOREIGN LANDS.
  
TO A HISTORIAN.
  
TO THEE OLD CAUSE.
  
EIDÓLONS.
  
FOR HIM I SING.
  
WHEN I READ THE BOOK.
  
BEGINNING MY STUDIES.
  
BEGINNERS.
  
TO THE STATES.
  
ON JOURNEYS THROUGH THE STATES.
  
TO A CERTAIN CANTATRICE.
  
ME IMPERTURBE.
  
SAVANTISM.
  
THE SHIP STARTING.
  
I HEAR AMERICA SINGING.
  
WHAT PLACE IS BESIEGED?
  
STILL THOUGH THE ONE I SING.
  
SHUT NOT YOUR DOORS.
  
POETS TO COME.
  
TO YOU.
  
THOU READER.
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STARTING FROM PAUMANOK.
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SONG OF MYSELF.
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CHILDREN OF ADAM.
  
TO THE GARDEN THE WORLD
  
FROM PENT-UP ACHING RIVERS.
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I SING THE BODY ELECTRIC.
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A WOMAN WAITS FOR ME.
  
SPONTANEOUS ME.
  
ONE HOUR TO MADNESS AND JOY.
  
OUT OF THE ROLLING OCEAN THE CROWD.
  
AGES AND AGES RETURNING AT INTERVALS.
  
WE TWO, HOW LONG WE WERE FOOL'D.
  
O HYMEN! O HYMENEE!
  
I AM HE THAT ACHES WITH LOVE.
  
NATIVE MOMENTS.
  
ONCE I PASS'D THROUGH A POPULOUS CITY.
  
I HEARD YOU SOLEMN-SWEET PIPES OF THE ORGAN.
  
FACING WEST FROM CALIFORNIA'S SHORES.
  
AS ADAM EARLY IN THE MORNING.
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CALAMUS.
  
IN PATHS UNTRODDEN.
  
SCENTED HERBAGE OF MY BREAST.
  
WHOEVER YOU ARE HOLDING ME NOW IN HAND.
  
FOR YOU O DEMOCRACY.
  
THESE I SINGING IN SPRING.
  
NOT HEAVING FROM MY RIBB'D BREAST ONLY.
  
OF THE TERRIBLE DOUBT OF APPEARANCES.
  
THE BASE OF ALL METAPHYSICS.
  
RECORDERS AGES HENCE.
  
WHEN I HEARD AT THE CLOSE OF THE DAY.
  
ARE YOU THE NEW PERSON DRAWN TOWARD ME?
  
ROOTS AND LEAVES THEMSELVES ALONE.
  
NOT HEAT FLAMES UP AND CONSUMES.
  
TRICKLE DROPS.
  
CITY OF ORGIES.
  
BEHOLD THIS SWARTHY FACE.
  
I SAW IN LOUISIANA A LIVE-OAK GROWING.
  
TO A STRANGER.
  
THIS MOMENT YEARNING AND THOUGHTFUL.
  
I HEAR IT WAS CHARGED AGAINST ME.
  
THE PRAIRIE-GRASS DIVIDING.
  
WHEN I PERUSE THE CONQUER'D FAME.
  
WE TWO BOYS TOGETHER CLINGING.
  
A PROMISE TO CALIFORNIA.
  
HERE THE FRAILEST LEAVES OF ME.
  
NO LABOR-SAVING MACHINE
  
A GLIMPSE.
  
A LEAF FOR HAND IN HAND.
  
EARTH, MY LIKENESS.
  
I DREAM'D IN A DREAM.
  
WHAT THINK YOU I TAKE MY PEN IN HAND?
  
TO THE EAST AND TO THE WEST.
  
SOMETIMES WITH ONE I LOVE.
  
TO A WESTERN BOY.
  
FAST ANCHOR'D ETERNAL O LOVE!
  
AMONG THE MULTITUDE.
  
O YOU WHOM I OFTEN AND SILENTLY COME.
  
THAT SHADOW MY LIKENESS.
  
FULL OF LIFE NOW.
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SALUT AU MONDE!
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SONG OF THE OPEN ROAD.
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CROSSING BROOKLYN FERRY.
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SONG OF THE ANSWERER.
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OUR OLD FEUILLAGE.
  
A SONG OF JOYS.
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SONG OF THE BROAD-AXE.
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SONG OF THE EXPOSITION.
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SONG OF THE REDWOOD-TREE.
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A SONG FOR OCCUPATIONS.
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A SONG OF THE ROLLING EARTH.
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YOUTH, DAY, OLD AGE AND NIGHT.
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BIRDS OF PASSAGE.
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SONG OF THE UNIVERSAL.
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PIONEERS! O PIONEERS!
  
TO YOU.
  
FRANCE,
  
MYSELF AND MINE.
  
YEAR OF METEORS.
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WITH ANTECEDENTS.
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A BROADWAY PAGEANT.
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SEA-DRIFT.
  
OUT OF THE CRADLE ENDLESSLY ROCKING.
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AS I EBB'D WITH THE OCEAN OF LIFE.
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TEARS.
  
TO THE MAN-OF-WAR-BIRD.
  
ABOARD AT A SHIP'S HELM.
  
ON THE BEACH AT NIGHT.
  
THE WORLD BELOW THE BRINE.
  
ON THE BEACH AT NIGHT ALONE.
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SONG FOR ALL SEAS, ALL SHIPS.
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PATROLING BARNEGAT.
  
AFTER THE SEA-SHIP.
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BY THE ROADSIDE.
  
A BOSTON BALLAD.
  
EUROPE,
  
A HAND-MIRROR.
  
GODS.
  
GERMS.
  
THOUGHTS.
  
WHEN I HEARD THE LEARN'D ASTRONOMER.
  
PERFECTIONS.
  
O ME! O LIFE!
  
TO A PRESIDENT.
  
I SIT AND LOOK OUT.
  
TO RICH GIVERS.
  
THE DALLIANCE OF THE EAGLES.
  
ROAMING IN THOUGHT.
  
A FARM PICTURE.
  
A CHILD'S AMAZE.
  
THE RUNNER.
  
BEAUTIFUL WOMEN.
  
MOTHER AND BABE.
  
THOUGHT.
  
VISOR'D.
  
THOUGHT.
  
GLIDING O'ER ALL.
  
HAST NEVER COME TO THEE AN HOUR.
  
THOUGHT.
  
TO OLD AGE.
  
LOCATIONS AND TIMES.
  
OFFERINGS.
  
TO THE STATES,
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DRUM-TAPS.
  
FIRST O SONGS FOR A PRELUDE.
  
EIGHTEEN SIXTY-ONE.
  
BEAT! BEAT! DRUMS!
  
FROM PAUMANOK STARTING I FLY LIKE A BIRD.
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SONG OF THE BANNER AT DAYBREAK.
  
Poet.
  
Pennant.
  
Child.
  
Father.
  
Poet.
  
Child.
  
Father.
  
Banner and Pennant.
  
Poet.
  
Banner and Pennant.
  
Child.
  
Father.
  
Banner.
  
Poet.
  
RISE O DAYS FROM YOUR FATHOMLESS DEEPS.
  
VIRGINIA—THE WEST.
  
CITY OF SHIPS.
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THE CENTENARIAN'S STORY.
  
Volunteer of 1861–2, (at Washington Park, Brooklyn, assisting the Centenarian.)
  
The Centenarian.
  
Terminus.
  
CAVALRY CROSSING A FORD.
  
BIVOUAC ON A MOUNTAIN SIDE.
  
AN ARMY CORPS ON THE MARCH.
  
BY THE BIVOUAC'S FITFUL FLAME.
  
COME UP FROM THE FIELDS FATHER.
  
VIGIL STRANGE I KEPT ON THE FIELD ONE NIGHT.
  
A MARCH IN THE RANKS HARD-PREST, AND THE ROAD UNKNOWN.
  
A SIGHT IN CAMP IN THE DAYBREAK GRAY AND DIM.
  
AS TOILSOME I WANDER'D VIRGINIA'S WOODS.
  
NOT THE PILOT.
  
YEAR THAT TREMBLED AND REEL'D BENEATH ME.
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THE WOUND-DRESSER.
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LONG, TOO LONG AMERICA.
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GIVE ME THE SPLENDID SILENT SUN.
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DIRGE FOR TWO VETERANS.
  
OVER THE CARNAGE ROSE PROPHETIC A VOICE.
  
I SAW OLD GENERAL AT BAY.
  
THE ARTILLERYMAN'S VISION.
  
ETHIOPIA SALUTING THE COLORS.
  
NOT YOUTH PERTAINS TO ME.
  
RACE OF VETERANS.
  
WORLD TAKE GOOD NOTICE.
  
O TAN-FACED PRAIRIE-BOY.
  
LOOK DOWN FAIR MOON.
  
RECONCILIATION.
  
HOW SOLEMN AS ONE BY ONE.
  
AS I LAY WITH MY HEAD IN YOUR LAP CAMERADO.
  
DELICATE CLUSTER.
  
TO A CERTAIN CIVILIAN.
  
LO, VICTRESS ON THE PEAKS.
  
SPIRIT WHOSE WORK IS DONE.
  
ADIEU TO A SOLDIER.
  
TURN O LIBERTAD.
  
TO THE LEAVEN'D SOIL THEY TROD.
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MEMORIES OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN.
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WHEN LILACS LAST IN THE DOORYARD BLOOM'D.
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O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN!
  
HUSH'D BE THE CAMPS TO-DAY.
  
THIS DUST WAS ONCE THE MAN.
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BY BLUE ONTARIO'S SHORE.
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REVERSALS.
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AUTUMN RIVULETS.
  
AS CONSEQUENT, Etc.
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THE RETURN OF THE HEROES.
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THERE WAS A CHILD WENT FORTH.
  
OLD IRELAND.
  
THE CITY DEAD-HOUSE.
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THIS COMPOST.
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TO A FOIL'D EUROPEAN REVOLUTIONAIRE.
  
UNNAMED LANDS.
  
SONG OF PRUDENCE.
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THE SINGER IN THE PRISON.
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WARBLE FOR LILAC-TIME.
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OUTLINES FOR A TOMB.
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OUT FROM BEHIND THIS MASK.
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VOCALISM.
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TO HIM THAT WAS CRUCIFIED.
  
YOU FELONS ON TRIAL IN COURTS.
  
LAWS FOR CREATIONS.
  
TO A COMMON PROSTITUTE.
  
I WAS LOOKING A LONG WHILE.
  
THOUGHT.
  
MIRACLES.
  
SPARKLES FROM THE WHEEL.
  
TO A PUPIL.
  
UNFOLDED OUT OF THE FOLDS.
  
WHAT AM I AFTER ALL.
  
KOSMOS.
  
OTHERS MAY PRAISE WHAT THEY LIKE.
  
WHO LEARNS MY LESSON COMPLETE?
  
TESTS.
  
THE TORCH.
  
O STAR OF FRANCE.
  
THE OX-TAMER.
  
AN OLD MAN'S THOUGHT OF SCHOOL.
  
WANDERING AT MORN.
  
ITALIAN MUSIC IN DAKOTA.
  
WITH ALL THY GIFTS.
  
MY PICTURE-GALLERY.
  
THE PRAIRIE STATES.
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PROUD MUSIC OF THE STORM.
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PASSAGE TO INDIA.
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PRAYER OF COLUMBUS.
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THE SLEEPERS.
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TRANSPOSITIONS.
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TO THINK OF TIME.
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WHISPERS OF HEAVENLY DEATH.
  
DAREST THOU NOW O SOUL.
  
WHISPERS OF HEAVENLY DEATH.
  
CHANTING THE SQUARE DEIFIC.
  
OF HIM I LOVE DAY AND NIGHT.
  
YET, YET, YE DOWNCAST HOURS.
  
AS IF A PHANTOM CARESS'D ME.
  
ASSURANCES.
  
QUICKSAND YEARS.
  
THAT MUSIC ALWAYS ROUND ME.
  
WHAT SHIP PUZZLED AT SEA.
  
A NOISELESS PATIENT SPIDER.
  
O LIVING ALWAYS, ALWAYS DYING.
  
TO ONE SHORTLY TO DIE.
  
NIGHT ON THE PRAIRIES.
  
THOUGHT.
  
THE LAST INVOCATION.
  
AS I WATCH'D THE PLOUGHMAN PLOUGHING.
  
PENSIVE AND FALTERING.
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THOU MOTHER WITH THY EQUAL BROOD.
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A PAUMANOK PICTURE.
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FROM NOON TO STARRY NIGHT.
  
THOU ORB ALOFT FULL-DAZZLING.
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FACES.
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THE MYSTIC TRUMPETER.
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TO A LOCOMOTIVE IN WINTER.
  
O MAGNET-SOUTH.
  
MANNAHATTA.
  
ALL IS TRUTH.
  
A RIDDLE SONG.
  
EXCELSIOR.
  
AH POVERTIES, WINCINGS, AND SULKY RETREATS.
  
THOUGHTS.
  
MEDIUMS.
  
WEAVE IN, MY HARDY LIFE.
  
SPAIN, 1873–74.
  
BY BROAD POTOMAC'S SHORE.
  
FROM FAR DAKOTA'S CAÑONS.
  
OLD WAR-DREAMS.
  
THICK-SPRINKLED BUNTING.
  
WHAT BEST I SEE IN THEE.
  
SPIRIT THAT FORM'D THIS SCENE.
  
AS I WALK THESE BROAD MAJESTIC DAYS.
  
A CLEAR MIDNIGHT.
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SONGS OF PARTING.
  
AS THE TIME DRAWS NIGH.
  
YEARS OF THE MODERN.
  
ASHES OF SOLDIERS.
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THOUGHTS.
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SONG AT SUNSET.
  
AS AT THY PORTALS ALSO DEATH.
  
MY LEGACY.
  
PENSIVE ON HER DEAD GAZING.
  
CAMPS OF GREEN.
  
THE SOBBING OF THE BELLS.
  
AS THEY DRAW TO A CLOSE.
  
JOY, SHIPMATE, JOY!
  
THE UNTOLD WANT.
  
PORTALS.
  
THESE CAROLS.
  
NOW FINALÈ TO THE SHORE.
  
SO LONG!
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ANNEX TO PRECEDING PAGES. Sands at Seventy.
  
MANNAHATTA.
  
PAUMANOK.
  
FROM MONTAUK POINT.
  
TO THOSE WHO'VE FAIL'D.
  
A CAROL CLOSING SIXTY-NINE.
  
THE BRAVEST SOLDIERS.
  
A FONT OF TYPE.
  
AS I SIT WRITING HERE.
  
MY CANARY BIRD.
  
QUERIES TO MY SEVENTIETH YEAR.
  
THE WALLABOUT MARTYRS.
  
THE FIRST DANDELION.
  
AMERICA.
  
MEMORIES.
  
TO-DAY AND THEE.
  
AFTER THE DAZZLE OF DAY.
  
ABRAHAM LINCOLN, BORN FEB. 12, 1809.
  
OUT OF MAY'S SHOWS SELECTED.
  
HALCYON DAYS.
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FANCIES AT NAVESINK.
  
THE PILOT IN THE MIST.
  
HAD I THE CHOICE.
  
YOU TIDES WITH CEASELESS SWELL.
  
LAST OF EBB, AND DAYLIGHT WANING.
  
AND YET NOT YOU ALONE.
  
PROUDLY THE FLOOD COMES IN.
  
BY THAT LONG SCAN OF WAVES.
  
THEN LAST OF ALL.
  
ELECTION DAY, NOVEMBER, 1884.
  
WITH HUSKY-HAUGHTY LIPS, O SEA!
  
DEATH OF GENERAL GRANT.
  
RED JACKET (FROM ALOFT.)
  
WASHINGTON'S MONUMENT, FEBRUARY, 1885.
  
OF THAT BLITHE THROAT OF THINE.
  
BROADWAY.
  
TO GET THE FINAL LILT OF SONGS.
  
OLD SALT KOSSABONE.
  
THE DEAD TENOR.
  
CONTINUITIES.
  
YONNONDIO.
  
LIFE.
  
“GOING SOMEWHERE.”
  
SMALL THE THEME OF MY CHANT.
  
TRUE CONQUERORS.
  
THE UNITED STATES TO OLD WORLD CRITICS.
  
THE CALMING THOUGHT OF ALL.
  
THANKS IN OLD AGE.
  
LIFE AND DEATH.
  
THE VOICE OF THE RAIN.
  
SOON SHALL THE WINTER'S FOIL BE HERE.
  
WHILE NOT THE PAST FORGETTING.
  
THE DYING VETERAN.
  
STRONGER LESSONS.
  
A PRAIRIE SUNSET.
  
TWENTY YEARS.
  
ORANGE BUDS BY MAIL FROM FLORIDA.
  
TWILIGHT.
  
YOU LINGERING SPARSE LEAVES OF ME.
  
NOT MEAGRE, LATENT BOUGHS ALONE.
  
THE DEAD EMPEROR.
  
AS THE GREEK'S SIGNAL FLAME.
  
THE DISMANTLED SHIP.
  
NOW PRECEDENT SONGS, FAREWELL.
  
AN EVENING LULL.
  
OLD AGE'S LAMBENT PEAKS.
  
AFTER THE SUPPER AND TALK.
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2D ANNEX. Good-Bye my Fancy.
  
SAIL OUT FOR GOOD, EIDÓLON YACHT!
  
LINGERING LAST DROPS.
  
GOOD-BYE MY FANCY.
  
ON, ON THE SAME, YE JOCUND TWAIN!
  
MY 71st YEAR.
  
APPARITIONS.
  
THE PALLID WREATH.
  
AN ENDED DAY.
  
OLD AGE'S SHIP & CRAFTY DEATH'S.
  
TO THE PENDING YEAR.
  
SHAKSPERE-BACON'S CIPHER.
  
LONG, LONG HENCE.
  
BRAVO, PARIS EXPOSITION!
  
INTERPOLATION SOUNDS.
  
TO THE SUN-SET BREEZE.
  
OLD CHANTS.
  
A CHRISTMAS GREETING.
  
SOUNDS OF THE WINTER.
  
A TWILIGHT SONG.
  
WHEN THE FULL-GROWN POET CAME.
  
OSCEOLA.
  
A VOICE FROM DEATH.
  
A PERSIAN LESSON.
  
THE COMMONPLACE.
  
“THE ROUNDED CATALOGUE DIVINE COMPLETE”
  
MIRAGES.
  
L. OF G.'S PURPORT.
  
THE UNEXPRESS'D.
  
GRAND IS THE SEEN.
  
UNSEEN BUDS.
  
GOOD-BYE MY FANCY!

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OUT OF THE CRADLE ENDLESSLY ROCKING.

Out of the cradle endlessly rocking,
Out of the mocking-bird's throat, the musical shuttle,
Out of the Ninth-month midnight,
Over the sterile sands and the fields beyond, where the child leaving his bed wander'd alone, bareheaded, barefoot,
Down from the shower'd halo,
Up from the mystic play of shadows twining and twisting as if they were alive,
Out from the patches of briers and blackberries,
From the memories of the bird that chanted to me,
From your memories sad brother, from the fitful risings and fallings I heard,
From under that yellow half-moon late-risen and swollen as if with tears,
197

From those beginning notes of yearning and love there in the mist,
From the thousand responses of my heart never to cease,
From the myriad thence-arous'd words,
From the word stronger and more delicious than any,
From such as now they start the scene revisiting,
As a flock, twittering, rising, or overhead passing,
Borne hither, ere all eludes me, hurriedly,
A man, yet by these tears a little boy again,
Throwing myself on the sand, confronting the waves,
I, chanter of pains and joys, uniter of here and hereafter,
Taking all hints to use them, but swiftly leaping beyond them,
A reminiscence sing.
Once Paumanok,
When the lilac-scent was in the air and Fifth-month grass was growing,
Up this seashore in some briers,
Two feather'd guests from Alabama, two together,
And their nest, and four light-green eggs spotted with brown,
And every day the he-bird to and fro near at hand,
And every day the she-bird crouch'd on her nest, silent, with bright eyes,
And every day I, a curious boy, never too close, never disturbing them,
Cautiously peering, absorbing, translating.
Shine! shine! shine!
Pour down your warmth, great sun!
While we bask, we two together.
Two together!
Winds blow south, or winds blow north,
Day come white, or night come black,
Home, or rivers and mountains from home,
Singing all time, minding no time,
While we two keep together.
Till of a sudden,
May-be kill'd, unknown to her mate,
One forenoon the she-bird crouch'd not on the nest,
Nor return'd that afternoon, nor the next,
Nor ever appear'd again.
And thenceforward all summer in the sound of the sea,
And at night under the full of the moon in calmer weather,
198

Over the hoarse surging of the sea,
Or flitting from brier to brier by day,
I saw, I heard at intervals the remaining one, the he-bird,
The solitary guest from Alabama.
Blow! blow! blow!
Blow up sea-winds along Paumanok's shore;
I wait and I wait till you blow my mate to me.
Yes, when the stars glisten'd,
All night long on the prong of a moss-scallop'd stake,
Down almost amid the slapping waves,
Sat the lone singer wonderful causing tears.
He call'd on his mate,
He pour'd forth the meanings which I of all men know.
Yes my brother I know,
The rest might not, but I have treasur'd every note,
For more than once dimly down to the beach gliding,
Silent, avoiding the moonbeams, blending myself with the shadows,
Recalling now the obscure shapes, the echoes, the sounds and sights after their sorts,
The white arms out in the breakers tirelessly tossing,
I, with bare feet, a child, the wind wafting my hair,
Listen'd long and long.
Listen'd to keep, to sing, now translating the notes,
Following you my brother.
Soothe! soothe! soothe!
Close on its wave soothes the wave behind,
And again another behind embracing and lapping, every one close,
But my love soothes not me, not me.
Low hangs the moon, it rose late,
It is lagging—O I think it is heavy with love, with love.
O madly the sea pushes upon the land,
With love, with love.
O night! do I not see my love fluttering out among the breakers?
What is that little black thing I see there in the white?
Loud! loud! loud!
Loud I call to you, my love!
199

High and clear I shoot my voice over the waves,
Surely you must know who is here, is here,
You must know who I am, my love.
Low-hanging moon!
What is that dusky spot in your brown yellow?
O it is the shape, the shape of my mate!
O moon do not keep her from me any longer.
Land! land! O land!
Whichever way I turn, O I think you could give me my mate back again if you only would,
For I am almost sure I see her dimly whichever way I look.
O rising stars!
Perhaps the one I want so much will rise, will rise with some of you.
O throat! O trembling throat!
Sound clearer through the atmosphere!
Pierce the woods, the earth,
Somewhere listening to catch you must be the one I want.
Shake out carols!
Solitary here, the night's carols!
Carols of lonesome love! death's carols!
Carols under that lagging, yellow, waning moon!
O under that moon where she droops almost down into the sea!
O reckless despairing carols.
But soft! sink low!
Soft! let me just murmur,
And do you wait a moment you husky-nois'd sea,
For somewhere I believe I heard my mate responding to me,
So faint, I must be still, be still to listen,
But not altogether still, for then she might not come immediately to me.
Hither my love!
Here I am! here!
With this just-sustain'd note I announce myself to you,
This gentle call is for you my love, for you.
Do not be decoy'd elsewhere,
That is the whistle of the wind, it is not my voice,
200

That is the fluttering, the fluttering of the spray,
Those are the shadows of leaves.
O darkness! O in vain!
O I am very sick and sorrowful.
O brown halo in the sky near the moon, drooping upon the sea!
O troubled reflection in the sea!
O throat! O throbbing heart!
And I singing uselessly, uselessly all the night.
O past! O happy life! O songs of joy!
In the air, in the woods, over fields,
Loved! loved! loved! loved! loved!
But my mate no more, no more with me!
We two together no more.
The aria sinking,
All else continuing, the stars shining,
The winds blowing, the notes of the bird continuous echoing,
With angry moans the fierce old mother incessantly moaning,
On the sands of Paumanok's shore gray and rustling,
The yellow half-moon enlarged, sagging down, drooping, the face of the sea almost touching,
The boy ecstatic, with his bare feet the waves, with his hair the atmosphere dallying,
The love in the heart long pent, now loose, now at last tumultuously bursting,
The aria's meaning, the ears, the soul, swiftly depositing,
The strange tears down the cheeks coursing,
The colloquy there, the trio, each uttering,
The undertone, the savage old mother incessantly crying,
To the boy's soul's questions sullenly timing, some drown'd secret hissing,
To the outsetting bard.
Demon or bird! (said the boy's soul,)
Is it indeed toward your mate you sing? or is it really to me?
For I, that was a child, my tongue's use sleeping, now I have heard you,
Now in a moment I know what I am for, I awake,
And already a thousand singers, a thousand songs, clearer, louder and more sorrowful than yours,
A thousand warbling echoes have started to life within me, never to die.
201

O you singer solitary, singing by yourself, projecting me,
O solitary me listening, never more shall I cease perpetuating you,
Never more shall I escape, never more the reverberations,
Never more the cries of unsatisfied love be absent from me,
Never again leave me to be the peaceful child I was before what there in the night,
By the sea under the yellow and sagging moon,
The messenger there arous'd, the fire, the sweet hell within,
The unknown want, the destiny of me.
O give me the clew! (it lurks in the night here somewhere,)
O if I am to have so much, let me have more!
A word then, (for I will conquer it,)
The word final, superior to all,
Subtle, sent up—what is it?—I listen;
Are you whispering it, and have been all the time, you sea-waves?
Is that it from your liquid rims and wet sands?
Whereto answering, the sea,
Delaying not, hurrying not,
Whisper'd me through the night, and very plainly before day-break,
Lisp'd to me the low and delicious word death,
And again death, death, death, death,
Hissing melodious, neither like the bird nor like my arous'd child's heart,
But edging near as privately for me rustling at my feet,
Creeping thence steadily up to my ears and laving me softly all over,
Death, death, death, death, death.
Which I do not forget,
But fuse the song of my dusky demon and brother,
That he sang to me in the moonlight on Paumanok's gray beach,
With the thousand responsive songs at random,
My own songs awaked from that hour,
And with them the key, the word up from the waves,
The word of the sweetest song and all songs,
That strong and delicious word which, creeping to my feet,
(Or like some old crone rocking the cradle, swathed in sweet garments, bending aside,)
The sea whisper'd me.
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