Section 29

1 Lines 16 and 17 added in 1870. 2 Drum-Taps reads ‘‘ Banner and Pennant.” 3 Drum-Taps. For ‘‘me”’ reads ‘‘us.’’
18
274 LEAVES OF GRASS
CHILD.
Father, what is that in the sky beckoning to me with long finger ? And what does it say to me all the while ?
FATHER.
Nothing, my babe, you see in the sky ;
And nothing at all to you it says. But look you, my babe,
Look at these dazzling things in the houses, and see you the money-shops opening ;
And see you the vehicles PEcparing to crawl along the streets with goods: 10
These! ah, these! how valued ~ toil’d for, these!
How envied by all the earth!
POET.
Fresh and rosy red, the sun is mounting high ;
On floats the sea in distant blue, careering through its channels ;
On floats the wind over the breast of the sea, setting in toward land ;
The great steady wind from west and west-by-south,
Floating so buoyant, with milk-white foam on the waters.
But I am not the sea, nor the red sun ;
I am not the wind, with girlish laughter ;
Not the immense wind which strengthens—not the wind which lashes ; 20
Not the spirit that ever lashes its own body to terror and death ;
But I am’ that which unseen comes and sings, sings, sings,
Which babbles in brooks and scoots in showers on the land,
Which the birds know in the woods, mornings and evenings,
And the shore-sands know, and the hissing wave, and that ban- ner and pennant,
Aloft there flapping and flapping.
CHILD. O father, it is alive—it is full of péople—it has children ! O now it seems to me it is talking to its children ! I hear it—it talks to me—O it is wonderful ! O it stretches—it spreads and runs so fast! © my father, 30 It is so broad, it covers the whole sky !
1 Drum-Taps reads ‘* But I am of that,’’ etc.
SONG OF THE BANNER AT DAY-BREAK 278
FATHER.
Cease, cease, my foolish babe,
What you are saying is sorrowful to me—much it displeases me ;
Behold with the rest, again I say—behold not banners and pen- nants aloft ;
But the well-prepared pavements behold—and mark the solid- wall’d houses.
BANNER AND PENNANT.
Speak to the child, O bard, out of Manhattan ;
(The war is over—yet never over . . . . out of it, we are born to real life and identity ;)*
Speak to our children all, or north or south of Manhattan,
Where our factory-engines hum, where our miners delve the
ground, Where our hoarse Niagara rumbles, where our prairie-plows are plowing ; 40
Speak, O bard! point this day, leaving all the rest, to us over all —and yet we know not why ;
For what are we, mere strips of cloth, profiting nothing,
Only flapping in the wind?
POET.
J hear and see not strips of cloth alone ;
I hear again’ the tramp of armies, I hear the challenging sentry ;
I hear the jubilant shouts of millions of men—I hear LiBerty !
I hear the drums beat, and the trumpets yet’ blowing ;
I myself move abroad, swift-rising, flying then ;
I use the wings of the land-bird, and use the wings of the sea- bird, and look down as from a height ;
I do not deny the precious results of peace—I see populous
cities, with wealth incalculable ; 50 I see numberless farms—I see the farmers working in their fields or barns ;
I see mechanics working—I see buildings everywhere founded, going up, or finish’d ;
I see trains of cars swiftly speeding along railroad tracks, drawn by the locomotives ;
1 Line 37 added in 1870. 2 «¢again”’ added in 1870. 8
276 LEAVES OF GRASS
I see the stores, depots, of Boston, Baltimore, Charleston, New Orleans ;
I see far in the west the immense area of grain—I dwell awhile, hovering ;
I pass to the lumber forests of the north, and again to the southern plantation, and again to California ;
Sweeping the whole, I see the countless profit, the busy gather- ings, earned wages ;
See the identity formed out of thirty-eight spacious and haughty States (and many more to come ; )
See forts on the shores of harbors—see ships sailing in and
out ; Then over all, (aye! aye!) my little and lengthen’d pennant, shaped like a sword, 60
Runs swiftly up, indicating war and defiance—And now the hal- yards have rais’d it,
Side of my banner broad and blue—side of my starry banner,
Discarding peace over all the sea and land.
BANNER AND PENNANT.
Yet louder, higher, stronger, bard! yet farther, wider cleave!
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 spacious and haughty States, (nor any five, nor ten ;)
Nor market nor depot are 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 shores of the sea are ours, and the rivers, great and small ; ; 70
And the fields they moisten are ours, and the crops and the fruits are ours ;
Bays and channels, and ships sailing in and out, are ours—and 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 su- preme,
1 Drum-Taps reads ‘‘ and carnage also,’’ etc. 2
3 «or four’’ added in 1870. 4
Drum-Taps. For “ forty millions’’
reads ‘¢ thirty-five millions,”’
i
SONG OF THE BANNER AT DAY-BREAK 277
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 anything—nor do I like money ;
But to mount up there I would like, O father dear—that banner likes : 80
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 everything ;
Forward to stand in front of wars—and O, such wars !—what have you to do with them?
With passions of demons, slaughter, premature death ?
POET.
Demons and death then I sing ;
Put in all, aye all, will I—sword-shaped pennant for war, and banner so broad and blue,
And a pleasure new and extatic, and the prattled yearning of
children, go Blent with the sounds of the peaceful land, and the liquid wash of the sea ;
And the black ships, fighting on the sea, enveloped 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 shining south ;
And the beech-waves combing over the beach on my eastern shore, and my western shore the same ;
And all between those shores, and my ever running Mississippi, with bends and chutes ;
1 Drum-Taps. For ‘‘ henceforth ’’ reads ‘‘ from this day.’’ 2 Drum-Taps reads ‘‘ and henceforth forever.” 3 Line 92 added in 1870,
278 LEAVES OF GRASS
And my Illinois fields, and my Kansas fields, and my fields of Missouri ;
The ConTINENT—devoting the whole identity, without reserving an atom,
Pour in! whelm that which asks, which sings, with all, and the yield of all.
BANNER AND PENNANT.
Aye all! for ever, for all! 100
From sea to sea, north and south, east and west,
(The war is completed, the price is paid, the title is settled be- yond recall ;)'
Fusing and holding, claiming, devouring the whole ;
No more with tender lip, nor musical labial sound,
But, out of the night emerging for good, our voice persuasive no more,
Croaking like crows here in the wind.
POET. (Finale.)
My limbs, my veins dilate ;
The blood of the world has fill’d me full—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 ; IIO
My sight, 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 pros- perity, (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 ;
1 Line 102 added in 1870, 2 «¢indeed’’ added in 1870, 8 «¢again’’ added in 1870.
SONG OF THE BANNER AT DAY-BREAK 279
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 ships ;
Not the superb ships, with sail-power or steam-power, fetching and carrying cargoes,
Nor machinery, vehicles, trade, nor revenues, —But you, as hence- forth I see you, 120
Running up out of the night, bringing your cluster of stars, (ever- . enlarging stars ; )
Divider of day-break you, cutting the air, touch’d by the sun, measuring the sky,
(Passionately 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 bloody 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, ma- chines are nothing—I see them not ;
I see but you, O warlike pennant! O bannerso broad, with stripes, I sing you only, 130
Flapping up there in the wind.
&
ETHIOPIA SALUTING THE COLORS.
(A REMINISCENCE OF 1864.)
First published in 1870.
ay
Who are you, dusky woman, so ancient, hardly human, With your woolly-white and turban’d head, and bare bony feet? Why, rising by the roadside here, do you the colors greet ?
1 Drum-Taps. For “ except’’ reads ‘ unless.”’ 2
280 ' _ LEAVES OF GRASS
2
(’Tis while our army lines Carolina’s sand and pines, Forth from thy hovel door, thou, Ethiopia, com’st to me, As, under doughty Sherman, I march toward the sea. )
3 Me, master, years a hundred, since from my parents sunder d, A little child, they caught me as the savage beast is caught; Then hither me, across the sea, the cruel slaver brought.
4 No further does she say, but lingering all the day, 10 Her high-borne turban’d head she wags, and rolls her darkling
eye, And curtseys to the regiments, the guidons moving by.
5
What is it, fateful woman—so blear, hardly human ? Why wag your head, with turban bound—yellow, red and green ? Are the things so strange and marvelous, you see or have seen ?
&*
LO! VICTRESS ON THE PEAKS! First published in *‘ When Lilacs Last in the Door-yard Bloom’d,’”’ 1865-6.
Lo! Victress on the peaks!
Where thou,’ with mighty brow, regarding the world,
(The world, O Libertad, that vainly conspired against thee ;)
Out of its countless beleaguering toils, after thwarting them all ;
Dominant,’ with the dazzling sun around thee,
Flauntest now unharm’d, in immortal soundness and bloom—lo! in these hours supreme,
No poem proud, I, chanting, bring to thee—nor mastery’s rap- turous verse ;
But a book,* containing night’s darkness, and blood-dripping wounds,
And psalms of the dead.
1 When Lilacs reads ‘‘ Where thou standest,’’ etc. 2 When Lilacs reads ‘* Where thou dominant,” etc. 3 When Lilacs reads * But a little book,’ etc.
DRUM-TAPS 281
WORLD, TAKE GOOD NOTICE. First published in ‘‘ Drum-Taps,”’ 186s. Wor LD, take good notice, silver stars fading, Milky hue ript, weft of white detaching, Coals thirty-eight, baleful and burning, Scarlet, significant, hands off warning, Now and henceforth flaunt from these shores.
&
THICK-SPRINKLED BUNTING. First published in ‘‘ Drum-Taps,”’ 1865, eee title of *‘ Flag of Stars! Thick-Sprinkled unting.
THICK-SPRINKLED bunting! Flag of stars !?
Long yet your road, fateful flag !—long yet your road, and lined with bloody death !
For the prize I see at issue, at last is the world!
All its ships and shores I see, interwoven with your threads, greedy banner !
—Dream’d again the flags of kings, highest Lorn, to flaunt unrival’d ?
O hasten, flag of man! O with sure and steady step, passing highest flags of kings,
Walk supreme to the heavens, mighty symbol—run up above them all,
Flag of stars! thick-sprinkled bunting !
1 Drum-Taps reads ‘‘ Flag of stars ! Thick-sprinkled bunting !’’
282 LEAVES OF GRASS
LEAVES OF GRASS.
FAGES.
First published in 1855. In 1856 under title of ‘‘ Poem of Faces,’’ In 1860’67 under title of ‘* Leaf of Faces,”
I
SAUNTERING the pavement, or riding the country by-road—lo ! such faces !?
Faces of friendship, precision, caution, suavity, ideality ;
The spiritual, prescient face—the always welcome, common, benevolent face,
The face of the singing of music—the grand faces of natural law- yers and judges, broad at the back-top ;
The faces of hunters and fishers, bulged at the brows—the shaved blanch’d faces of orthodox citizens ;
The pure, extravagant, yearning, questioning artist’s face ;
The ugly face’ of some beautiful Soul, the handsome detested or despised face ;
The sacred faces of infants, the illuminated face of the mother of many children ;
The face of an amour, the face of veneration ;
The face as of a dream, the face of an immobile rock ; 10
The face withdrawn of its good and bad, a castrated face ;
A wild hawk, his wings clipp’d by the clipper ;
A stallion that yielded at last to the thongs and knife of the gelder.
Sauntering the pavement, thus, or crossing the ceaseless ferry, faces, and faces, and faces :* I see them, and complain not, and am content with all.
2
Do you suppose I could be content with all, if I thought them their own finale ?
11855 ’56’60. For “lo! such faces !’’ read ‘‘ here then are faces !’’
2 1855 reads ‘‘ The welcome ugly face.”’
3 1855 756 ’60 read ‘‘Sauntering the pavement or crossing the ceaseless ferry, here then are faces,”
LEAVES OF GRASS 283
This now is too lamentable a face for a man; Some abject louse, asking leave to be—cringing for it ; Some milk-nosed maggot, blessing what lets it wrig to its hole.
This face is a dog’s snout, sniffing for garbage ; 20 Snakes nest in that mouth—I hear the sibilant threat.
This face is a haze more chill than the arctic sea ; Its sleepy and wobbling icebergs crunch as they go.
This is a face of bitter herbs—this an emetic—they need no label ;
And more of the drug-shelf, laudanum, caoutchouc, or hog’s- lard.
This face is an epilepsy,’ its wordless tongue gives out the un- earthly cry,
Its veins down the neck distended, its eyes roll till they show nothing but their whites,
Its teeth grit, the palms of the hands are cut by the turn’d-in nails,
The man falls struggling and foaming to the ground while he speculates well.
This face is bitten by vermin and worms, 30 And this is some murderer’s knife, with a half-pull’d scabbard.
This face owes to the sexton his dismalest fee ; An unceasing death-bell tolls there.
3 Those then? are really men—the bosses and tufts of the great round globe!
Features of my equals, would you trick me with your creas’d and cadaverous march ? Well,® you cannot trick me.
1 7855 adds ‘‘ advertising and doing business,’ 2 3 1855 reads “ well then,”’ etc,
284 LEAVES OF GRASS
I see your rounded, never-erased flow ; I see neath the rims of your haggard and mean disguises.
Splay and twist as you like—poke with the tangling fores of fishes or rats ; You’ll be unmuzzled, you certainly will. 40
I saw the face of the most smear’d and slobbering idiot they had at the asylum ;
And I knew for my consolation what they knew not ;
I knew of the agents that emptied and broke my brother,
The same wait to clear the rubbish from the fallen tenement ;
And I shall look again in a score or two of ages,
And I shall meet the real landlord, perfect and unharm’d, every inch as good as myself.
4
The Lord advances, and yet advances ; Always the shadow in front—always the reach’d hand bringing up the laggards.
Out of this face emerge banners and horses—O superb! I see what is coming ;
I see the high pioneer-caps—I see the staves of runners clearing the way, 50
I hear victorious drums.
This face is a life-boat ;
This is the face commanding and bearded, it asks no odds of the rest ;
This face is flavor’d fruit, ready for eating ;