 | Leaves of grass. |  |
8
44 The little one sleeps in
its cradle;
I lift the gauze, and look a long time, and silently brush away flies with my hand.
45 The youngster and the red-faced girl turn aside up the bushy hill;
I peeringly view them from the top.
46 The suicide sprawls on the bloody floor of the bedroom;
I witness the corpse with its dabbled hair — I note where the pistol has fallen.
47 The blab of the pave, the tires of carts, sluff of boot-soles, talk of the promenaders;
The heavy omnibus, the driver with his interrogating thumb, the clank of the shod horses on the granite floor;
The snow-sleighs, the clinking, shouted jokes, pelts of snow-balls;
The hurrahs for popular favorites, the fury of rous'd mobs;
The flap of the curtain'd litter, a sick man inside, borne to the hospital;
The meeting of enemies, the sudden oath, the blows and fall;
The excited crowd, the policeman with his star, quickly working his passage to the centre of the crowd;
The impassive stones that receive and return so many echoes;
What groans of over-fed or half-starv'd who fall sun-struck, or in fits;
What exclamations of women taken suddenly, who hurry home and give birth to babes;
What living and buried speech is always vibrating here — what howls restrain'd by decorum,
Arrests of criminals, slights, adulterous offers made,
acceptances,
rejections with convex lips;
I mind them or the show or resonance of them — I come, and I depart.
I lift the gauze, and look a long time, and silently brush away flies with my hand.
45 The youngster and the red-faced girl turn aside up the bushy hill;
I peeringly view them from the top.
46 The suicide sprawls on the bloody floor of the bedroom;
I witness the corpse with its dabbled hair — I note where the pistol has fallen.
47 The blab of the pave, the tires of carts, sluff of boot-soles, talk of the promenaders;
The heavy omnibus, the driver with his interrogating thumb, the clank of the shod horses on the granite floor;
The snow-sleighs, the clinking, shouted jokes, pelts of snow-balls;
The hurrahs for popular favorites, the fury of rous'd mobs;
The flap of the curtain'd litter, a sick man inside, borne to the hospital;
The meeting of enemies, the sudden oath, the blows and fall;
The excited crowd, the policeman with his star, quickly working his passage to the centre of the crowd;
The impassive stones that receive and return so many echoes;
What groans of over-fed or half-starv'd who fall sun-struck, or in fits;
What exclamations of women taken suddenly, who hurry home and give birth to babes;
What living and buried speech is always vibrating here — what howls restrain'd by decorum,
32
I mind them or the show or resonance of them — I come, and I depart.
| Leaves of grass. | |