Poems By Walt Whitman - LightNovelsOnl.com
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The splendours of the past day? Or the splendour of the night that envelops me?
Or the vaunted glory and growth of the great city spread around me?--No; But I record of two simple men I saw to-day, on the pier, in the midst of the crowd, parting the parting of dear friends; The one to remain hung on the other's neck, and pa.s.sionately kissed him, While the one to depart tightly pressed the one to remain in his arms.
_TO A STRANGER._
Pa.s.sing stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you; You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking (it comes to me, as of a dream).
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you.
All is recalled as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured; You grew up with me, were a boy with me, or a girl with me; I ate with you, and slept with you--your body has become not yours only, nor left my body mine only; You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pa.s.s--you take of my beard, breast, hands in return; I am not to speak to you--I am to think of you when I sit alone, or wake at night alone; I am to wait--I do not doubt I am to meet you again; I am to see to it that I do not lose you.
_OTHER LANDS._
This moment yearning and thoughtful, sitting alone, It seems to me there are other men in other lands, yearning and thoughtful; It seems to me I can look over and behold them in Prussia, Italy, France, Spain--or far, far away, in China, or in Russia or India--talking other dialects; And it seems to me, if I could know those men, I should become attached to them, as I do to men in my own lands.
O I know we should be brethren and lovers; I know I should be happy with them.
_ENVY._
When I peruse the conquered fame of heroes, and the victories of mighty generals, I do not envy the generals, Nor the President in his Presidency, nor the rich in his great house.
But when I read of the brotherhood of lovers, how it was with them; How through life, through dangers, odium, unchanging, long and long, Through youth, and through middle and old age, how unfaltering, how affectionate and faithful they were, Then I am pensive--I hastily put down the book, and walk away, filled with the bitterest envy.
_THE CITY OF FRIENDS._
I dreamed in a dream I saw a city invincible to the attacks of the whole of the rest of the earth; I dreamed that it was the new City of Friends; Nothing was greater there than the quality of robust love--it led the rest; It was seen every hour in the actions of the men of that city, And in all their looks and words.
_OUT OF THE CROWD._
1.
Out of the rolling ocean, the crowd, came a drop gently to me, Whispering, _I love you; before long I die: I have travelled a long way, merely to look on you, to touch you: For I could not die till I once looked on you, For I feared I might afterward lose you_.
2.
Now we have met, we have looked, we are safe; Return in peace to the ocean, my love; I too am part of that ocean, my love--we are not so much separated; Behold the great _rondure_--the cohesion of all, how perfect!
But as for me, for you, the irresistible sea is to separate us, As for an hour carrying us diverse--yet cannot carry us diverse for ever; Be not impatient--a little s.p.a.ce--know you, I salute the air, the ocean, and the land, Every day, at sundown, for your dear sake, my love.
_AMONG THE MULt.i.tUDE._
Among the men and women, the mult.i.tude, I perceive one picking me out by secret and divine signs, Acknowledging none else--not parent, wife, husband, brother, child, any nearer than I am; Some are baffled--But that one is not--that one knows me.
Ah, lover and perfect equal!
I meant that you should discover me so, by my faint indirections; And I, when I meet you, mean to discover you by the like in you.
LEAVES OF GRa.s.s.
_PRESIDENT LINCOLN'S FUNERAL HYMN._
1.
When lilacs last in the door-yard bloomed, And the great star[1] early drooped in the western sky in the night, I mourned,...and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
O ever-returning spring! trinity sure to me you bring; Lilac blooming perennial, and drooping star in the west, And thought of him I love.
2.
O powerful, western, fallen star!
O shades of night! O moody, tearful night!
O great star disappeared! O the black murk that hides the star!
O cruel hands that hold me powerless! O helpless soul of me!
O harsh surrounding cloud that will not free my soul!
3.
In the door-yard fronting an old farm-house, near the whitewashed palings, Stands the lilac bush, tall-growing, with heart-shaped leaves of rich green, With many a pointed blossom, rising delicate, with the perfume strong I love, With every leaf a miracle: and from this bush in the dooryard, With delicate-coloured blossoms, and heart-shaped leaves of rich green, A sprig, with its flower, I break.
4.
In the swamp, in secluded recesses, A shy and hidden bird is warbling a song.
Solitary, the thrush, The hermit, withdrawn to himself, avoiding the settlements, Sings by himself a song:
Song of the bleeding throat!
Death's outlet song of life--for well, dear brother, I know, If thou wast not gifted to sing, thou wouldst surely die.
