Leaves of Grass Part 36

No longer let our children deem us riches and peace alone, We may be terror and carnage, and are so now, Not now are we any one of these s.p.a.cious and haughty States, (nor any five, nor ten,) Nor market nor depot we, nor money-bank in the city, But these and all, and the brown and spreading land, and the mines below, are ours, And the sh.o.r.es of the sea are ours, and the rivers great and small, And the fields they moisten, and the crops and the fruits are ours, Bays and channels and s.h.i.+ps sailing in and out are ours-while we over all, Over the area spread below, the three or four millions of square miles, the capitals, The forty millions of people,-O bard! in life and death supreme, We, even we, henceforth flaunt out masterful, high up above, Not for the present alone, for a thousand years chanting through you, This song to the soul of one poor little child.

Child: O my father I like not the houses, They will never to me be any thing, nor do I like money, But to mount up there I would like, O father dear, that banner I like, That pennant I would be and must be.

Father: Child of mine you fill me with anguish, To be that pennant would be too fearful, Little you know what it is this day, and after this day, forever, It is to gain nothing, but risk and defy every thing, Forward to stand in front of wars-and O, such wars!-what have you to do with them?

With pa.s.sions of demons, slaughter, premature death?

Banner: Demons and death then I sing, Put in all, aye all will I, sword-shaped pennant for war, And a pleasure new and ecstatic, and the prattled yearning of children, Blent with the sounds of the peaceful land and the liquid wash of the sea, And the black s.h.i.+ps fighting on the sea envelop'd in smoke, And the icy cool of the far, far north, with rustling cedars and pines, And the whirr of drums and the sound of soldiers marching, and the hot sun s.h.i.+ning south, And the beach-waves combing over the beach on my Eastern sh.o.r.e, and my Western sh.o.r.e the same, And all between those sh.o.r.es, and my ever running Mississippi with bends and chutes, And my Illinois fields, and my Kansas fields, and my fields of Missouri, The Continent, devoting the whole ident.i.ty without reserving an atom, Pour in! whelm that which asks, which sings, with all and the yield of all, Fusing and holding, claiming, devouring the whole, No more with tender lip, nor musical l.a.b.i.al sound, But out of the night emerging for good, our voice persuasive no more, Croaking like crows here in the wind.

Poet: My limbs, my veins dilate, my theme is clear at last, Banner so broad advancing out of the night, I sing you haughty and resolute, I burst through where I waited long, too long, deafen'd and blinded, My hearing and tongue are come to me, (a little child taught me,) I hear from above O pennant of war your ironical call and demand, Insensate! insensate! (yet I at any rate chant you,) O banner!

Not houses of peace indeed are you, nor any nor all their prosperity, (if need be, you shall again have every one of those houses to destroy them, You thought not to destroy those valuable houses, standing fast, full of comfort, built with money, May they stand fast, then? not an hour except you above them and all stand fast;) O banner, not money so precious are you, not farm produce you, nor the material good nutriment, Nor excellent stores, nor landed on wharves from the s.h.i.+ps, Not the superb s.h.i.+ps with sail-power or steam-power, fetching and carrying cargoes, Nor machinery, vehicles, trade, nor revenues-but you as henceforth I see you, Running up out of the night, bringing your cl.u.s.ter of stars, (ever-enlarging stars,) Divider of daybreak you, cutting the air, touch'd by the sun, measuring the sky, (Pa.s.sionately seen and yearn'd for by one poor little child, While others remain busy or smartly talking, forever teaching thrift, thrift;) O you up there! O pennant! where you undulate like a snake hissing so curious, Out of reach, an idea only, yet furiously fought for, risking b.l.o.o.d.y death, loved by me, So loved-O you banner leading the day with stars brought from the night!

Valueless, object of eyes, over all and demanding all-(absolute owner of all)-O banner and pennant!

I too leave the rest-great as it is, it is nothing-houses, machines are nothing-I see them not, I see but you, O warlike pennant! O banner so broad, with stripes, sing you only, Flapping up there in the wind.

Rise O Days from Your Fathomless Deeps

1 Rise O days from your fathomless deeps, till you loftier, fiercer sweep, Long for my soul hungering gymnastic I devour'd what the earth gave me, Long I roam'd amid the woods of the north, long I watch'd Niagara pouring, I travel'd the prairies over and slept on their breast, I cross'd the Nevadas, I cross'd the plateaus, I ascended the towering rocks along the Pacific, I sail'd out to sea, I sail'd through the storm, I was refresh'd by the storm, I watch'd with joy the threatening maws of the waves,

I mark'd the white combs where they career'd so high, curling over, I heard the wind piping, I saw the black clouds, Saw from below what arose and mounted, (O superb! O wild as my heart, and powerful!) Heard the continuous thunder as it bellow'd after the lightning, Noted the slender and jagged threads of lightning as sudden and fast amid the din they chased each other across the sky; These, and such as these, I, elate, saw-saw with wonder, yet pensive and masterful, All the menacing might of the globe uprisen around me, Yet there with my soul I fed, I fed content, supercilious.

2 'Twas well, O soul-'twas a good preparation you gave me, Now we advance our latent and ampler hunger to fill, Now we go forth to receive what the earth and the sea never gave us, Not through the mighty woods we go, but through the mightier cities, Something for us is pouring now more than Niagara pouring, Torrents of men, (sources and rills of the Northwest are you indeed inexhaustible?) What, to pavements and homesteads here, what were those storms of the mountains and sea?

What, to pa.s.sions I witness around me to-day? was the sea risen?

Was the wind piping the pipe of death under the black clouds?

Lo! from deeps more unfathomable, something more deadly and savage, Manhattan rising, advancing with menacing front-Cincinnati, Chicago, unchain'd; What was that swell I saw on the ocean? behold what comes here, How it climbs with daring feet and hands-how it dashes!

How the true thunder bellows after the lightning-how bright the flashes of lightning!

How Democracy with desperate vengeful port strides on, shown through the dark by those flashes of lightning!

(Yet a mournful wall and low sob I fancied I heard through the dark, In a lull of the deafening confusion.)

3 Thunder on! stride on, Democracy! strike with vengeful stroke!

And do you rise higher than ever yet O days, O cities!

Crash heavier, heavier yet O storms! you have done me good, My soul prepared in the mountains absorbs your immortal strong nutriment, Long had I walk'd my cities, my country roads through farms, only half satisfied, One doubt nauseous undulating like a snake, crawl'd on the ground before me, Continually preceding my steps, turning upon me oft, ironically hissing low; The cities I loved so well I abandon'd and left, I sped to the certainties suitable to me, Hungering, hungering, hungering, for primal energies and Nature's dauntlessness, I refresh'd myself with it only, I could relish it only, I waited the bursting forth of the pent fire-on the water and air waited long; But now I no longer wait, I am fully satisfied, I am glutted, I have witness'd the true lightning, I have witness'd my cities electric, I have lived to behold man burst forth and warlike America rise, Hence I will seek no more the food of the northern solitary wilds, No more the mountains roam or sail the stormy sea.

Virginia-The West

The n.o.ble sire fallen on evil days, I saw with hand uplifted, menacing, brandis.h.i.+ng, (Memories of old in abeyance, love and faith in abeyance,) The insane knife toward the Mother of All.

The n.o.ble son on sinewy feet advancing, I saw, out of the land of prairies, land of Ohio's waters and of Indiana, To the rescue the stalwart giant hurry his plenteous offspring, Drest in blue, bearing their trusty rifles on their shoulders.

Then the Mother of All with calm voice speaking, As to you Rebellious, (I seemed to hear her say,) why strive against me, and why seek my life?

When you yourself forever provide to defend me?

For you provided me Was.h.i.+ngton-and now these also.

City of s.h.i.+ps

City of s.h.i.+ps!

(O the black s.h.i.+ps! O the fierce s.h.i.+ps!

O the beautiful sharp-bow'd steam-s.h.i.+ps and sail-s.h.i.+ps!) City of the world! (for all races are here, All the lands of the earth make contributions here;) City of the sea! city of hurried and glittering tides!

City whose gleeful tides continually rush or recede, whirling in and out with eddies and foam!

City of wharves and stores-city of tall facades of marble and iron!

Proud and pa.s.sionate city-mettlesome, mad, extravagant city!

Spring up O city-not for peace alone, but be indeed yourself, warlike!

Fear not-submit to no models but your own O city!

Behold me-incarnate me as I have incarnated you!

I have rejected nothing you offer'd me-whom you adopted I have adopted, Good or bad I never question you-I love all-I do not condemn any thing, I chant and celebrate all that is yours-yet peace no more, In peace I chanted peace, but now the drum of war is mine, War, red war is my song through your streets, O city!

The Centenarian's Story

[Volunteer of 1861-2, at Was.h.i.+ngton Park, Brooklyn, a.s.sisting the Centenarian.]

Give me your hand old Revolutionary, The hill-top is nigh, but a few steps, (make room gentlemen,) Up the path you have follow'd me well, spite of your hundred and extra years, You can walk old man, though your eyes are almost done, Your faculties serve you, and presently I must have them serve me.

Rest, while I tell what the crowd around us means, On the plain below recruits are drilling and exercising, There is the camp, one regiment departs to-morrow, Do you hear the officers giving their orders?

Do you hear the clank of the muskets?

Why what comes over you now old man?

Why do you tremble and clutch my hand so convulsively?

The troops are but drilling, they are yet surrounded with smiles, Around them at hand the well-drest friends and the women, While splendid and warm the afternoon sun s.h.i.+nes down, Green the midsummer verdure and fresh blows the dallying breeze, O'er proud and peaceful cities and arm of the sea between.

But drill and parade are over, they march back to quarters, Only hear that approval of hands! hear what a clapping!

As wending the crowds now part and disperse-but we old man, Not for nothing have I brought you hither-we must remain, You to speak in your turn, and I to listen and tell.

[The Centenarian]

When I clutch'd your hand it was not with terror, But suddenly pouring about me here on every side, And below there where the boys were drilling, and up the slopes they ran, And where tents are pitch'd, and wherever you see south and south- east and south-west, Over hills, across lowlands, and in the skirts of woods, And along the sh.o.r.es, in mire (now fill'd over) came again and suddenly raged, As eighty-five years agone no mere parade receiv'd with applause of friends, But a battle which I took part in myself-aye, long ago as it is, I took part in it, Walking then this hilltop, this same ground.

Aye, this is the ground, My blind eyes even as I speak behold it re-peopled from graves, The years recede, pavements and stately houses disappear, Rude forts appear again, the old hoop'd guns are mounted, I see the lines of rais'd earth stretching from river to bay, I mark the vista of waters, I mark the uplands and slopes; Here we lay encamp'd, it was this time in summer also.

As I talk I remember all, I remember the Declaration, It was read here, the whole army paraded, it was read to us here, By his staff surrounded the General stood in the middle, he held up his unsheath'd sword, It glitter'd in the sun in full sight of the army.

Twas a bold act then-the English war-s.h.i.+ps had just arrived, We could watch down the lower bay where they lay at anchor, And the transports swarming with soldiers.

A few days more and they landed, and then the battle.

Twenty thousand were brought against us, A veteran force furnish'd with good artillery.

I tell not now the whole of the battle, But one brigade early in the forenoon order'd forward to engage the red-coats, Of that brigade I tell, and how steadily it march'd, And how long and well it stood confronting death.

Who do you think that was marching steadily sternly confronting death?

It was the brigade of the youngest men, two thousand strong, Rais'd in Virginia and Maryland, and most of them known personally to the General.