Section 39

Even to set off these, and merge with these, the carols of Death.* O full of music! full of manhood, womanhood, infancy !
Full of common employments ! full of grain and trees.
O for the voices of animals! O for the swiftness and balance of fishes !
O for the dropping of rain-drops in a poem !
O for the sunshine, and motion of waves in a poem. *
O the joy of my spirit! it is uncaged! it darts like lightning ! It is not enough to have this globe, or a certain time—lI will have thousands of globes, and all time.
1 Drum-Taps reads ‘‘ Sing, with the shovel’d clods that fill the grave—a verse,”’ 2 1860 for ‘‘the’’ reads “‘a.”’ 3 Line 2 added in 1870. 4 After line 7, 186067 read ‘¢O to be on the sea! the wind, the wide waters around ; O to sail in a ship under full sail at sea,”’
378 LEAVES OF GRASS
O the engineer’s joys! ie)
To go with a locomotive !
To hear the hiss of steam—the merry shriek—the steam-whistle —the laughing locomotive!
To push with resistless way, and speed off in the distance.
O the gleesome saunter over fields and hill-sides !
The leaves and flowers of the commonest weeds—the moist fresh stillness of the woods,
The exquisite smell of the earth at day-break, and all through the forenoon.’
O the horseman’s and horsewoman’s joys ! The saddle—the gallop—the pressure upon the seat—the cool gurgling by the ears and hair.
3 O the fireman’s joys!
I hear the alarm at dead of night, 20 I hear bells—shouts !—I pass the crowd—-I run! The sight of the flames maddens me with pleasure.
O the joy of the strong-brawn’d fighter, towering in the arena, in perfect condition, conscious of power, thirsting to meet his opponent.
O the joy of that vast elemental sympathy which only the human Soul is capable of generating and emitting in steady and limitless floods.
4
O the mother’s joys !
The watching—the endurance—the precious love—the anguish —the patiently yielded life.
O the joy of increase, growth, recuperation ;
The joy of soothing and pacifying—the joy of concord and harmony.
1 Lines 14-16 in 1860 ’67 are placed after line 165, after which 1860 67 add ‘*O love-branches! love-root! love-apples ! O chaste and electric torrents! O mad-sweet drops.”
POEM OF JOYS 379
O to go back to the place where I was born!
To hear the birds sing once more ! 30 To ramble about the house and barn, and over the fields, once more,
And through the orchard and along the old lanes once more.
5 O male and female ! O the presence of women! (I swear there is nothing more ex- quisite to me than the mere presence of women ;) O for the girl, my mate! O for the happiness with my mate! O the young man as I pass! O I am sick after the friendship of him who, I fear, is indifferent to me.
O the streets of cities ! The flitting faces—the expressions, eyes, feet, costumes! O I cannot tell how welcome they are to me.’
6 O to have been brought up on bays, lagoons, creeks, or along the coast ! O to continue and: be employ’d there all my life! 40
O the briny and damp smel]l—the shore—the salt weeds exposed at low water,
The work of fishermen—the work of the eel-fisher and clam- fisher.
O itis I!
I come with my clam-rake and spade ! I come with my eel-spear ;
Is the tide out? I join the group of clam-diggers on the flats,
I laugh and work with them—I joke at my work, like a mettle- some young man.
In winter I take my eel-basket and eel-spear and travel out on foot on the ice—I have a small axe to cut holes in the iee s
Behold me, well-clothed, going gaily, or returning in the after- noon—-my brood of tough boys accompaning me,
My brood of grown and part-grown boys, who love to be with no one else so well as they love to be with me,
By day to work with me, and by night to sleep with me. 50
1 After line-38, 1860 ’67 add ‘‘O of men—of women toward me as I pass —The memory of only one look—the boy lingering and waiting.”’
380 LEAVES OF GRASS
Or, another time, in warm weather, out in a boat, to lift the lobster-pots, where they are sunk with heavy stones, (I know the buoys ;)
O the sweetness of the Fifth-month morning upon the water, as I row, just before sunrise, toward the buoys ;
I pull the wicker pots up slantingly—the dark-green lobsters are desperate with their claws, as I take them out—I insert wooden pegs in the joints of their pincers,
I go to all the places, one after another, and then row back to the shore,
There, in a huge kettle of boiling water, the lobsters shall be boil’d till their color becomes scarlet.
Or, another time, mackerel-taking,
Voracious, mad for the hook, near the surface, they seem to fill the water for miles :
Or, another time, fishing for rock-fish, in Chesapeake Bay—I one of the brown-faced crew :
Or, another time, trailing for blue-fish off Paumanok, I stand with braced body,
My left foot is on the gunwale—my right arm throws the coils of slender rope, 60
In sight around me the quick veering and darting of fifty skiffs, my companions.
a
O boating on the rivers !
The voyage down the Niagara, (the St. Lawrence, )—the superb scenery—the steamers,
The ships sailing—the Thousand Islands—the occasional timber- raft, and the raftsmen with long-reaching sweep-oars,
The little huts on the rafts, and the stream of smoke when they cook their supper at evening.
O something pernicious and dread !
Something far away from a puny and pious life ! Something unproved ! Something in a trance ! Something escaped from the anchorage, and driving free.
O to work in mines, or forging iron ! 70
Foundry casting—the foundry itself—the rude high roof—the ample and shadow’d space,
The furnace—the hot liquid pour’d out and running.
POEM OF JOYS 381
8
O to resume the joys of the soldier :
To feel the presence of a brave general! to feel his sympathy !
To behold his calmness ! to be warm’d in the rays of his smile!
To go to battle! to hear the bugles play, and the drums beat !
To hear the crash of artillery! to see the glittering of the bayonets and musket-barrels in the sun !
To see men fall and die, and not complain !
To taste the savage taste of blood! to be so devilish !
To gloat so over the wounds and deaths of the enemy. 80
9
O the whaleman’s joys! O I cruise my old cruise again !
I feel the ship’s motion under me—I feel the Atlantic breezes fanning me,
I hear the cry again sent down from the mast-head— There—she blows !
—Again I spring up the rigging, to look with the rest—We see —we descend, wild with excitement,
I leap in the lower’d boat—We row toward our prey, where he hes,
We approach, stealthy and silent—lI see the mountainous mass, lethargic, basking,
I see the harpooneer standing up—lI see the weapon dart from his vigorous arm:
O swift, again, now, far out in the ocean, the wounded whale, settling, running to windward, tows me ;
—Again I see him rise to breathe—We row close again,
I see a lance driven through his side, press’d deep, turn’d in the
wound, go Again we back off—I see him settle again—the life is leaving him fast,
As he rises, he spouts blood—I see him swim in circles narrower and narrower, swiftly cutting the water—lI see him die ;
He gives one convulsive leap in the centre of the circle, and then falls flat and still in the bloody foam.
Io
O the old manhood of me, my joy!
My children and grand-children—my white hair and beard,
My largeness, calmness, majesty, out of the long stretch of my life.
382 LEAVES OF GRASS
O the ripen’d joy of womanhood !
O perfect happiness at last !
I am more than eighty years of age—my hair, too, is pure white —TI am the most venerable mother ;
How clear is my mind! how all people draw nigh tome! _ roo
What attractions are these, beyond any before? what bloom, more than the bloom of youth ?
What beauty is this that descends upon me, and rises out of me?
O the orator’s joys !
To inflate the chest—to roll the thunder of the voice out from the ribs and throat,
To make the people rage, weep, hate, desire, with yourself,
To lead America—to quell America with a great tongue.’
O the joy of my soul leaning pois’d on itself—receiving identity through materials, and loving them—observing char- acters, and absorbing them ;
O my soul, vibrated back to me, from them—from facts, sight, hearing, touch, my phrenology, reason, articulation, com- parison, memory, and the like ;
The real life of my senses and flesh, transcending my senses and
flesh ; My body, done with materials—my sight, done with my mate- rial eyes ; 110
Proved to me this day,” beyond cavil, that it is not my material eyes which finally see,
Nor my material body which finally loves, walks, laughs, shouts, embraces, procreates.
II
O the farmer’s joys!
Ohioan’s, Illinoisian’s, Wisconsinese’, Kanadian’s, Iowan’s, Kansian’s, Missourian’s, Oregonese’ joys ;
To rise at peep of day, and pass forth nimbly to work,
To plow land in the fall for winter-sown crops,
To plough land in the spring for maize,
To eae orchards—to graft the trees—to gather apples in the all.
O the pleasure with trees ! The orchard—the forest—the oak, cedar, pine, pekan-tree, 120 The honey-locust, black-walnut, cottonwood, and magnolia.
: Lines 103-6 in 1860 ’67 are placed before line 138. 1860 ’67 read “ O what is proved to me this day.”
POEM OF JOYS 383
12
O Death! the voyage of Death !
The’ beautiful touch of Death, soothing and benumbing a few moments, for reasons ;
Myself,* discharging my excrementitious body, to be burn’d, or render’d to powder, or buried,
My real body doubtless left to me for other spheres,
My voided body, nothing more to me, returning to the purifica- tions, further offices, eternal uses of the earth.
13 O to bathe in the swimming-bath, or in a good place along shore ! To splash the water! to walk ankle-deep—to race naked along the shore.
O to realize space!
The plenteousness of all—that there are no bounds ; 130
To emerge, and be of the sky—of the sun and moon, and the flying clouds, as one with them.
O the joy of a manly self-hood !
Personality—to be servile to none—to defer to none—not to any tyrant, known or unknown,
To walk with erect carriage, a step springy and elastic,
To look with calm gaze, or with a flashing eye,
To speak with a full and sonorous voice, out of a broad chest,
To confront with your personality all the other personalities of the earth.
r4* Know’ st thou ‘the excellent joys of youth? Joys of the dear companions, and of the merry word, and laugh-
ing face? Joys of the glad, light-beaming day—joy of the wide-breath’d games ? 140 Joy of sweet music—joy of the lighted ball-room, and the dancers ?
1 “the voyage of Death !’’ added in 1870.
2 1860 ’67 read “O the beautiful,’ etc.
3 1860 ’67 read ‘‘O that of myself,’’ etc.
4 Stanzas 14-15-16. Lines 138-150 added in 1870.
384 LEAVES OF GRASS
Joy of the friendly, plenteous dinner—the strong carouse, and drinking P
5
Yet, O my soul supreme!
Know’ st thou the joys of pensive thought ?
Joys of the free and lonesome heart—the tender, gloomy heaves
Joy of the solitary walk—the spirit bowed yet proud—the suf- fering and the struggle?
The agonistic throes, the extasies—joys of the solemn musings, day or night Sich
Joys of the thought of Death—the great spheres Time and Space ?
Prophetic joys of better, loftier love’s ideals—the Divine Wife —the sweet, eternal, perfect Comrade ?
Joys all thine own, undying one—joys worthy thee, O Soul. 150
16
O, while I live, to be the ruler of life—not a slave,
To meet life as a powerful conqueror,
No fumes—no ennui—no more complaints, or scornful criti- cisms.
O me repellent and ugly!
To these proud laws of the air, the water, and the ground, prov- ing my interior Soul impregnable,
And nothing exterior shall ever take command of me.
O to attract by more than attraction !
How it is I know not—yet behold! the something which obeys none of the rest,
It is offensive, never defensive—yet how magnetic it draws.
17
O joy of suffering ! 160
To struggle against great odds! to meet enemies undaunted !
To be entirely alone with them! to find how much one can stand !
To look strife, torture, prison, popular odium, death, face to face !
To mount the scaffold ! to advance to the muzzles of guns with perfect nonchalance !
To be indeed a God!
TO THINK OF TIME 385
18 O, to sail to sea in a ship ! To leave this steady, unendurable land ! To leave the tiresome sameness of the streets, the sidewalks and the houses ;
To leave you, O you solid motionless land, and entering a ship, To sail, and sail, and sail ! 170 MY
O to have my life henceforth a poem of new? joys!
To dance, clap hands, exult, shout, skip, leap, roll on, float on,® To be a sailor of the world, bound for all ports,
A ship itself, (see indeed these sails I spread to the sun and air, ) A swift and swelling ship, full of rich words—full of joys.
1O;THINK:OF TIME:
First published in 1855. In 1856 under title of ‘‘ Burial.’’ In 1860’67 under title of « Burial Poem.”
I
*To think of time—of all that retrospection !* To think of to-day, and the ages continued henceforward !
Have you guess’d you yourself would not continue? Have you dreaded these earth-beetles ? Have you fear’d the future would be nothing to you?
Is to-day nothing? Is the beginningless past nothing ? If the future is nothing, they are just as surely nothing.
To think that the sun rose in the east! that men and women were flexible, real, alive! that everything was alive !
To think that you and I did notsee, feel, think, nor bear our part !
To think that we are now here, and bear our part ! 10
1 Stanza 18, lines 166-170 added in 1870. 2 «¢new’’ added in 1870. 8 After line 172, 186067 read ‘¢ An athlete—full of rich words—full of joys,’’ which ends the poem in those editions. é : 4 1860 ’67 begin the Poem ‘To think of it! To think of time—” etc. 5 1855 ’60 read “to think throvgh the retrospection,”’ 25
386 -~ | LEAVES OF GRASS
2
Not a day passes—not a minute or second, without an accouche- ment ! Not a day passes—not a minute or second, without a corpse !
The dull nights go over, and the dull days also,
The soreness of lying so much in bed goes over,
The physician, after long putting off, gives the silent and terrible look for an answer,
The children come hurried and weeping, and the brothers and sisters are sent for,
Medicines stand unused on the shelf—(the camphor-smell has long pervaded the rooms, )
The faithful hand of the living does not desert the hand of the dying,
The twitching lips press lightly on the forehead of the dying,
The breath ceases, and the pulse of the heart ceases, 20
The corpse stretches’ on the bed, and the living look upon it,
It is palpable® as the living are palpable.
The living look upon the corpse with their eye-sight, But without eye-sight lingers a different living, and looks curi- ously on the corpse.
3
To think the thought of Death, merged in the thought of ma- terials !*
To think that the rivers will flow,® and the snow fall, and fruits ripen, and act upon others as upon us now—yet not act upon us!
To think of all these wonders of city and country, and others taking great interest in them—and we taking no® interest in them !
To think how eager we are in building our houses ! To think others shall be just as eager, and we quite indifferent !
1 In 1855 lines 13-20 each begin with ‘* When.’’
» 1855 reads ‘‘ Then the corpse-limbs stretch on the bed and the living look upon them.’?
° 1855 reads ‘‘ They are palpable.”’
4 Line 25 added in 1870.
5 1855 ’56 read
® 1855 for ‘‘“no”’ reads ‘* small.??
TO THINK OF TIME 387
(I see one building the house that serves him a few years, or seventy or eighty years at most, 30 I see one building the house that serves him longer than that. J
Slow-moving and black lines creep over the whole earth—they never cease—they are the burial lines,
He that was President was buried, and he that is now President shall surely be buried.
4
A reminiscence of the vulgar fate,
A frequent sample of the life and death of workmen,
Each after his kind :'
Cold dash of waves at the ferry-wharf—posh and ice in the river, half-frozen mud in the streets, a gray, discouraged sky overhead, the short, last daylight of Twelfth-month,
A hearse and stages—other vehicles give place—the funeral of an old Broadway’ stage-driver, the cortege mostly drivers.
Steady the trot to the cemetery, duly rattles the death-bell, the gate is pass’d, the new-dug grave is halted at, the living alight, the hearse uncloses,