14
Now while I sat in the day and look'd
forth,
In the close of the day with its light
and the fields of spring, and the
farmers preparing their crops,
In the large unconscious scenery of my
land with its lakes and forests,
In the heavenly aerial beauty, (after
the perturb'd winds and the
storms,)
Under the arching heavens of the afternoon
swift passing, and the
voices of children and women,
The many-moving sea-tides, and I saw
the ships how they sail'd,
And the summer approaching with
richness, and the fields all busy
with labor,
And the infinite separate houses, how
they all went on, each with its
meals and minutia of daily
usages,
And the streets how their throbbings
throbb'd, and the cities pent—lo,
then and there,
Falling upon them all and among them
all, enveloping me with the rest,
Appear'd the cloud, appear'd the long
black trail,
And I knew death, its thought, and the
sacred knowledge of death.
Then with the knowledge of death as
walking one side of me,
And the thought of death close-walking
the other side of me,
And I in the middle as with companions,
and as holding the hands of
companions,
I fled forth to the hiding receiving night
that talks not,
Down to the shores of the water, the
path by the swamp in the dimness,
To the solemn shadowy cedars and
ghostly pines so still.
And the singer so shy to the rest
receiv'd me,
The gray-brown bird I know receiv'd
us comrades three,
And he sang the carol of death, and a
verse for him I love.
From deep secluded recesses,
From the fragrant cedars and the
ghostly pines so still,
Came the carol of the bird.
And the charm of the carol rapt me,
As I held as if by their hands my comrades
in the night,
And the voice of my spirit tallied the
song of the bird.
Come lovely and soothing death,
Undulate round the world, serenely arriving,
arriving,
In the day, in the night, to all, to each,
Sooner or later delicate death.
Prais'd be the fathomless universe,
For life and joy, and for objects and
knowledge curious,
And for love, sweet
praise! praise!
For the sure-enwinding arms of
cool-enfolding death.
Dark mother always gliding near with
soft feet,
Have none chanted for thee a chant of
fullest welcome?
Then I chant it for thee, I glorify thee
above all,
I bring thee a song that when thou
must indeed come, come unfalteringly.
Approach strong deliveress,
When it is so, when thou hast taken
them I joyously sing the dead,
Lost in the loving floating ocean of thee,
Laved in the flood of thy bliss O death.
From me to thee glad serenades,
Dances for thee I propose saluting thee,
adornments and feastings for
thee,
And the sights of the open landscape
and the high-spread sky are fitting,
And life and the fields, and the huge
and thoughtful night.
The night in silence under many a star,
The ocean shore and the husky whispering
wave whose voice I know,
And the soul turning to thee O vast and
well-veil'd death,
And the body gratefully nestling close
to thee.
Over the tree-tops I float thee a song,
Over the rising and sinking leaves, over
the myriad fields and the prairies
wide,
Over the dense-pack'd cities all and the
teeming wharves and ways,
I float this carol with joy, with joy to
thee O death.