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1. BOOK XXX. WHISPERS OF HEAVENLY DEATH
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1.1. Darest Thou Now O Soul
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Darest thou now O soul,
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Walk out with me toward the unknown region,
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Where neither ground is for the feet nor any path to follow?
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No map there, nor guide,
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Nor voice sounding, nor touch of human hand,
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Nor face with blooming flesh, nor lips, nor eyes, are in that land.
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I know it not O soul,
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Nor dost thou, all is a blank before us,
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All waits undream'd of in that region, that inaccessible land.
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Till when the ties loosen,
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All but the ties eternal, Time and Space,
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Nor darkness, gravitation, sense, nor any bounds bounding us.
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Then we burst forth, we float,
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In Time and Space O soul, prepared for them,
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Equal, equipt at last, (O joy! O fruit of all!) them to fulfil O soul.
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1.2. Whispers of Heavenly Death
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Whispers of heavenly death murmur'd I hear,
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Labial gossip of night, sibilant chorals,
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Footsteps gently ascending, mystical breezes wafted soft and low,
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Ripples of unseen rivers, tides of a current flowing, forever flowing,
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(Or is it the plashing of tears? the measureless waters of human tears?)
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I see, just see skyward, great cloud-masses,
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Mournfully slowly they roll, silently swelling and mixing,
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With at times a half-dimm'd sadden'd far-off star,
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Appearing and disappearing.
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(Some parturition rather, some solemn immortal birth;
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On the frontiers to eyes impenetrable,
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Some soul is passing over.)
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1.3. Chanting the Square Deific
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1.3.1. 1
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Chanting the square deific, out of the One advancing, out of the sides,
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Out of the old and new, out of the square entirely divine,
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Solid, four-sided, (all the sides needed,) from this side Jehovah am I,
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Old Brahm I, and I Saturnius am;
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Not Time affects me—I am Time, old, modern as any,
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Unpersuadable, relentless, executing righteous judgments,
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As the Earth, the Father, the brown old Kronos, with laws,
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Aged beyond computation, yet never new, ever with those mighty laws rolling,
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Relentless I forgive no man—whoever sins dies—I will have that man's life;
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Therefore let none expect mercy—have the seasons, gravitation, the
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appointed days, mercy? no more have I,
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But as the seasons and gravitation, and as all the appointed days
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that forgive not,
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I dispense from this side judgments inexorable without the least remorse.
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1.3.2. 2
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Consolator most mild, the promis'd one advancing,
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With gentle hand extended, the mightier God am I,
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Foretold by prophets and poets in their most rapt prophecies and poems,
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From this side, lo! the Lord Christ gazes—lo! Hermes I—lo! mine is
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Hercules' face,
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All sorrow, labor, suffering, I, tallying it, absorb in myself,
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Many times have I been rejected, taunted, put in prison, and
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crucified, and many times shall be again,
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All the world have I given up for my dear brothers' and sisters'
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sake, for the soul's sake,
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Wanding my way through the homes of men, rich or poor, with the kiss
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of affection,
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For I am affection, I am the cheer-bringing God, with hope and
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all-enclosing charity,
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With indulgent words as to children, with fresh and sane words, mine only,
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Young and strong I pass knowing well I am destin'd myself to an
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early death;
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But my charity has no death—my wisdom dies not, neither early nor late,
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And my sweet love bequeath'd here and elsewhere never dies.
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1.3.3. 3
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Aloof, dissatisfied, plotting revolt,
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Comrade of criminals, brother of slaves,
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Crafty, despised, a drudge, ignorant,
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With sudra face and worn brow, black, but in the depths of my heart,
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proud as any,
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Lifted now and always against whoever scorning assumes to rule me,
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Morose, full of guile, full of reminiscences, brooding, with many wiles,
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(Though it was thought I was baffled, and dispel'd, and my wiles
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done, but that will never be,)
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Defiant, I, Satan, still live, still utter words, in new lands duly
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appearing, (and old ones also,)
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Permanent here from my side, warlike, equal with any, real as any,
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Nor time nor change shall ever change me or my words.
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1.3.4. 4
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Santa Spirita, breather, life,
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Beyond the light, lighter than light,
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Beyond the flames of hell, joyous, leaping easily above hell,
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Beyond Paradise, perfumed solely with mine own perfume,
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Including all life on earth, touching, including God, including
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Saviour and Satan,
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Ethereal, pervading all, (for without me what were all? what were God?)
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Essence of forms, life of the real identities, permanent, positive,
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(namely the unseen,)
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Life of the great round world, the sun and stars, and of man, I, the
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general soul,
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Here the square finishing, the solid, I the most solid,
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Breathe my breath also through these songs.
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1.4. Of Him I Love Day and Night
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Of him I love day and night I dream'd I heard he was dead,
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And I dream'd I went where they had buried him I love, but he was
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not in that place,
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And I dream'd I wander'd searching among burial-places to find him,
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And I found that every place was a burial-place;
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The houses full of life were equally full of death, (this house is now,)
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The streets, the shipping, the places of amusement, the Chicago,
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Boston, Philadelphia, the Mannahatta, were as full of the dead as
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of the living,
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And fuller, O vastly fuller of the dead than of the living;
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And what I dream'd I will henceforth tell to every person and age,
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And I stand henceforth bound to what I dream'd,
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And now I am willing to disregard burial-places and dispense with them,
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And if the memorials of the dead were put up indifferently everywhere,
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even in the room where I eat or sleep, I should be satisfied,
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And if the corpse of any one I love, or if my own corpse, be duly
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render'd to powder and pour'd in the sea, I shall be satisfied,
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Or if it be distributed to the winds I shall be satisfied.
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1.5. Yet, Yet, Ye Downcast Hours
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Yet, yet, ye downcast hours, I know ye also,
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Weights of lead, how ye clog and cling at my ankles,
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Earth to a chamber of mourning turns—I hear the o'erweening, mocking
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voice,
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Matter is conqueror—matter, triumphant only, continues onward.
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Despairing cries float ceaselessly toward me,
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The call of my nearest lover, putting forth, alarm'd, uncertain,
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The sea I am quickly to sail, come tell me,
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Come tell me where I am speeding, tell me my destination.
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I understand your anguish, but I cannot help you,
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I approach, hear, behold, the sad mouth, the look out of the eyes,
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your mute inquiry,
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Whither I go from the bed I recline on, come tell me,—
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Old age, alarm'd, uncertain—a young woman's voice, appealing to
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me for comfort;
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A young man's voice, Shall I not escape?
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1.6. As If a Phantom Caress'd Me
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As if a phantom caress'd me,
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I thought I was not alone walking here by the shore;
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But the one I thought was with me as now I walk by the shore, the
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one I loved that caress'd me,
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As I lean and look through the glimmering light, that one has
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utterly disappear'd.
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And those appear that are hateful to me and mock me.
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1.7. Assurances
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I need no assurances, I am a man who is preoccupied of his own soul;
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I do not doubt that from under the feet and beside the hands and
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face I am cognizant of, are now looking faces I am not cognizant
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of, calm and actual faces,
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I do not doubt but the majesty and beauty of the world are latent in
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any iota of the world,
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I do not doubt I am limitless, and that the universes are limitless,
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in vain I try to think how limitless,
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I do not doubt that the orbs and the systems of orbs play their
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swift sports through the air on purpose, and that I shall one day
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be eligible to do as much as they, and more than they,
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I do not doubt that temporary affairs keep on and on millions of years,
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I do not doubt interiors have their interiors, and exteriors have
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their exteriors, and that the eyesight has another eyesight, and
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the hearing another hearing, and the voice another voice,
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I do not doubt that the passionately-wept deaths of young men are
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provided for, and that the deaths of young women and the
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deaths of little children are provided for,
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(Did you think Life was so well provided for, and Death, the purport
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of all Life, is not well provided for?)
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I do not doubt that wrecks at sea, no matter what the horrors of
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them, no matter whose wife, child, husband, father, lover, has
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gone down, are provided for, to the minutest points,
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I do not doubt that whatever can possibly happen anywhere at any
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time, is provided for in the inherences of things,
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I do not think Life provides for all and for Time and Space, but I
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believe Heavenly Death provides for all.
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1.8. Quicksand Years
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Quicksand years that whirl me I know not whither,
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Your schemes, politics, fail, lines give way, substances mock and elude me,
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Only the theme I sing, the great and strong-possess'd soul, eludes not,
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One's-self must never give way—that is the final substance—that
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out of all is sure,
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Out of politics, triumphs, battles, life, what at last finally remains?
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When shows break up what but One's-Self is sure?
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1.9. That Music Always Round Me
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That music always round me, unceasing, unbeginning, yet long
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untaught I did not hear,
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But now the chorus I hear and am elated,
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A tenor, strong, ascending with power and health, with glad notes of
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daybreak I hear,
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A soprano at intervals sailing buoyantly over the tops of immense waves,
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A transparent base shuddering lusciously under and through the universe,
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The triumphant tutti, the funeral wailings with sweet flutes and
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violins, all these I fill myself with,
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I hear not the volumes of sound merely, I am moved by the exquisite
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meanings,
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I listen to the different voices winding in and out, striving,
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contending with fiery vehemence to excel each other in emotion;
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I do not think the performers know themselves—but now I think
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begin to know them.
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1.10. What Ship Puzzled at Sea
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What ship puzzled at sea, cons for the true reckoning?
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Or coming in, to avoid the bars and follow the channel a perfect
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pilot needs?
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Here, sailor! here, ship! take aboard the most perfect pilot,
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Whom, in a little boat, putting off and rowing, I hailing you offer.
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1.11. A Noiseless Patient Spider
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A noiseless patient spider,
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I mark'd where on a little promontory it stood isolated,
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Mark'd how to explore the vacant vast surrounding,
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It launch'd forth filament, filament, filament out of itself,
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Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.
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And you O my soul where you stand,
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Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
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Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to
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connect them,
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Till the bridge you will need be form'd, till the ductile anchor hold,
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Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.
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1.12. O Living Always, Always Dying
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O living always, always dying!
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O the burials of me past and present,
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O me while I stride ahead, material, visible, imperious as ever;
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O me, what I was for years, now dead, (I lament not, I am content;)
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O to disengage myself from those corpses of me, which I turn and
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look at where I cast them,
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To pass on, (O living! always living!) and leave the corpses behind.
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1.13. To One Shortly to Die
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From all the rest I single out you, having a message for you,
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You are to die—let others tell you what they please, I cannot prevaricate,
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I am exact and merciless, but I love you—there is no escape for you.
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Softly I lay my right hand upon you, you 'ust feel it,
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I do not argue, I bend my head close and half envelop it,
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I sit quietly by, I remain faithful,
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I am more than nurse, more than parent or neighbor,
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I absolve you from all except yourself spiritual bodily, that is
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eternal, you yourself will surely escape,
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The corpse you will leave will be but excrementitious.
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The sun bursts through in unlooked-for directions,
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Strong thoughts fill you and confidence, you smile,
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You forget you are sick, as I forget you are sick,
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You do not see the medicines, you do not mind the weeping friends,
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I am with you,
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I exclude others from you, there is nothing to be commiserated,
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I do not commiserate, I congratulate you.
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1.14. Night on the Prairies
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Night on the prairies,
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The supper is over, the fire on the ground burns low,
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The wearied emigrants sleep, wrapt in their blankets;
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I walk by myself—I stand and look at the stars, which I think now
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never realized before.
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Now I absorb immortality and peace,
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I admire death and test propositions.
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How plenteous! how spiritual! how resume!
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The same old man and soul—the same old aspirations, and the same content.
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I was thinking the day most splendid till I saw what the not-day exhibited,
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I was thinking this globe enough till there sprang out so noiseless
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around me myriads of other globes.
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Now while the great thoughts of space and eternity fill me I will
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measure myself by them,
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And now touch'd with the lives of other globes arrived as far along
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15
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as those of the earth,
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16
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Or waiting to arrive, or pass'd on farther than those of the earth,
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17
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I henceforth no more ignore them than I ignore my own life,
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18
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Or the lives of the earth arrived as far as mine, or waiting to arrive.
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| |
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19
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O I see now that life cannot exhibit all to me, as the day cannot,
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20
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I see that I am to wait for what will be exhibited by death.
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1.15. Thought
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0
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As I sit with others at a great feast, suddenly while the music is playing,
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1
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To my mind, (whence it comes I know not,) spectral in mist of a
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2
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wreck at sea,
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3
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Of certain ships, how they sail from port with flying streamers and
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4
|
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wafted kisses, and that is the last of them,
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5
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Of the solemn and murky mystery about the fate of the President,
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6
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Of the flower of the marine science of fifty generations founder'd
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7
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off the Northeast coast and going down—of the steamship Arctic
|
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8
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going down,
|
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9
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Of the veil'd tableau-women gather'd together on deck, pale, heroic,
|
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10
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waiting the moment that draws so close—O the moment!
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|
11
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A huge sob—a few bubbles—the white foam spirting up—and then the
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12
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women gone,
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13
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Sinking there while the passionless wet flows on—and I now
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14
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pondering, Are those women indeed gone?
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15
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Are souls drown'd and destroy'd so?
|
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16
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Is only matter triumphant?
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| |
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1.16. The Last Invocation
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0
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At the last, tenderly,
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1
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From the walls of the powerful fortress'd house,
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2
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From the clasp of the knitted locks, from the keep of the well-closed doors,
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3
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Let me be wafted.
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4
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Let me glide noiselessly forth;
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5
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With the key of softness unlock the locks—with a whisper,
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6
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Set ope the doors O soul.
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|
7
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Tenderly—be not impatient,
|
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8
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(Strong is your hold O mortal flesh,
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9
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Strong is your hold O love.)
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1.17. As I Watch the Ploughman Ploughing
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0
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As I watch'd the ploughman ploughing,
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1
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Or the sower sowing in the fields, or the harvester harvesting,
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2
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I saw there too, O life and death, your analogies;
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3
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(Life, life is the tillage, and Death is the harvest according.)
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| |
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1.18. Pensive and Faltering
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0
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Pensive and faltering,
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1
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The words the Dead I write,
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2
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For living are the Dead,
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3
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(Haply the only living, only real,
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