bd
Abraham Lincoln ran against Stephen Douglas and became the sixteenth presi-
dent of the United States; Whitman refers here to the nineteenth term of the pres-
idency.
be
Abolitionist John Brown was hung for treason in Charles Town, Virginia (now
West Virginia), on December 2, 1859.
bf
Edward, prince of Wales, visited New York City on October 11, 1860.
†The British steamship The Great Eastern made her first transatlantic crossing to
New York in 1860.
bg
Opposites.
bh
Smooth, lyrical, flowing, song-like piece; the word is more commonly used as an
adjective.
bi
As in “Year of Meteors,” Whitman refers to the visit of Edward, prince of Wales, to New York in 1860.
bj
Quaker designation for September, but perhaps also an allusion to the culmina
tion of a pregnancy.
bk
Native American term for Long Island, the fish-shaped island where Whitman
was born. The poet later designates Paumanok as his male progenitor, and the sea
around it as his “mother.”
bl
Brittle; easily crumbled; fragile.
bm
Barnegat is the name of a bay on the coast of New Jersey, east of Whitman’s last
home in Camden.
bn
The “16th, 17th, or 18th Presidentiad” refers to the terms of Millard Fillmore, Franklin Pierce, and James Buchanan (see endnote 3 to the First Edition).
bo
The poem’s title was originally set in numerals (“1861”). Whitman often recalled
hearing about the attack at Fort Sumter after attending a performance at New
York’s Academy of Music on April 13, 1861.
bp
A “bivouac” is a temporary encampment, often in the open.
bq
Clarify (French).
br
The mossbonker (also spelled mossbunker), or menhaden, is fish indigenous to the Long Island waters Whitman describes.
bs
Slang expression used by the likes of sailors and prostitutes, “so long” signifies not only “good-bye,” but “‘til we meet again.”
bt
Navesink—a sea-side mountain, lower entrance of New York Bay [Whitman’s
note].
bu
The two songs on this page are eked out during an afternoon, June, 1888, in my
seventieth year, at a critical spell of illness. Of course no reader and probably no
human being at any time will ever have such phases of emotional and solemn ac
tion as these involve to me. I feel in them an end and close of all [Whitman’s note].
bv
Behind a Good-bye there lurks much of the salutation of another beginning—to me,
Development, Continuity, Immortality, Transformation, are the chiefest life-
meanings of Nature and Humanity, and are the sine qua non of all facts, and each fact.
Why do folks dwell so fondly on the last words, advice, appearance, of the de
parting? Those last words are not samples of the best, which involve vitality at its
full, and balance, and perfect control and scope. But they are valuable beyond
measure to confirm and endorse the varied train, facts, theories and faith of the
whole preceding life [Whitman’s note].
bw
‘NOTE.—Summer country life.—Several years.—In my rambles and explorations I found a woody place near the creek, where for some reason the birds in happy mood seem’d to resort in unusual numbers. Especially at the beginning of the day, and again at the ending, I was sure to get there the most copious bird-concerts. I repair’ d there frequently at sunrise—and also at sunset, or just before ... Once the question arose in me: Which is the best singing, the first or the lattermost? The first always exhilarated, and perhaps seem’d more joyous and stronger; but I always felt the sunset or late afternoon sounds more penetrating and sweeter—seem’d to touch the soul—often the evening thrushes, two or three of them, responding and perhaps blending. Though I miss’d some of the mornings, I found myself getting to be quite strictly punctual at the evening utterances.
ANOTHER NOTE.—“He went out with the tide and the sunset,” was a phrase I heard from a surgeon describing an old sailor’s death under peculiarly gentle conditions.
During the Secession War, 1863 and ‘4, visiting the Army Hospitals around Washington, I form’d the habit, and continued it to the end, whenever the ebb or flood tide began the latter part of day, of punctually visiting those at that time populous wards of suffering men. Somehow (or I thought so) the effect of the hour was palpable. The badly wounded would get some ease, and would like to talk a little, or be talk’d to. Intellectual and emotional natures would be at their best: Deaths were always easier; medicines seem’d to have better effect when given then, and a lulling atmosphere would pervade the wards.
Similar influences, similar circumstances and hours, day-close, after great battles, even with all their horrors. I had more than once the same experience on the fields cover’d with fallen or dead [Whitman’s notes].
bx
NOTE.-CAMDEN, N. J., August 7, 1888.-Walt Whitman asks the New York
Herald “to add his tribute to Sheridan:”
“In the grand constellation of five or six names, under Lincoln’s Presidency, that
history will bear for ages in her firmament as marking the last life-throbs of seces
sion, and beaming on its dying gasps, Sheridan’s will be bright. One consideration
rising out of the now dead soldier’s example as it passes my mind, is worth taking
notice of. If the war had continued any long time these States, in my opinion,
would have shown and proved the most conclusive military talents ever evinced by
any nation on earth. That they possess’d a rank and file ahead of all other known
in points of quality and limitlessness of number are easily admitted. But we have,
too, the eligibility of organizing, handling and officering equal to the other. These
two, with modern arms, transportation, and inventive American genius, would
make the United States, with earnestness, not only able to stand the whole world,
but conquer that world united against us” [Whitman’s note].
by
When Champollion, on his death-bed, handed to the printer the revised proof of his “Egyptian Grammar,” he said gayly, “Be careful of this—it is my carte de visite to posterity” [Whitman’s note].
bz
The ferment and germination even of the United States to-day, dating back to, and in my opinion mainly founded on, the Elizabethan age in English history, the age of Francis Bacon and Shakspere. Indeed, when we pursue it, what growth or advent is there that does not date back, back, until lost—perhaps its most tantalizing clues lost—in the receded horizons of the past? [Whitman’s note].
ca
According to Immanuel Kant, the last essential reality, giving shape and significance to all the rest [Whitman’s note].
cb
Sir Walter Scott’s COMPLETE POEMS; especially including BORDER MINSTRELSY; then Sir Tristem; Lay of the Last Minstrel; Ballads from the German; Marmion; Lady of the Lake; Vision of Don Roderick; Lord of the Isles; Rokeby, Bridal of Triermain; Field of Waterloo; Harold the Dauntless; all the Dramas; various Introductions, endless interesting Notes, and Essays on Poetry, Romance, &c.
Lockhart’s 1833 (Or‘34) edition with Scott’s latest and copious revisions and annotations. (All the poems were thoroughly read by me, but the ballads of the Border Minstrelsy over and over again [Whitman’s note].)
cc
Nineteenth Century,“ July, 188
3 [Whitman’s note].
Table of Contents
FROM THE PAGES OF LEAVES OF GRASS
Title Page
Copyright Page
WALT WHITMAN
THE WORLD OF WALT WHITMAN AND LEAVES OF GRASS
Introduction
Leaves of Grass - Brooklyn, New York : 1855.
INTRODUCTION TO FIRST EDITION
[PREFACE]
[Song of Myself]
[A Song for Occupations]
[To Think of Time]
[The Sleepers]
[I Sing the Body Electric]
[Faces]
[Song of the Answerer]
[Europe, The 72d and 73d Years of These States]
[A Boston Ballad]
[There Was a Child Went Forth]
[Who Learns My Lesson Complete]
[Great Are the Myths]
Leaves of Grass
INTRODUCTION - TO “DEATH-BED” EDITION
INSCRIPTIONS
ONE‘S-SELF I SING
AS I PONDER’D IN SILENCE
IN CABIN’D SHIPS AT SEA
TO FOREIGN LANDS
TO A HISTORIAN
TO THEE OLD CAUSE
EIDÓLONS
FOR HIM I SING
WHEN I READ THE BOOK
BEGINNING MY STUDIES
BEGINNERS
TO THE STATES
ON JOURNEYS THROUGH THE STATES
TO A CERTAIN CANTATRICE
ME IMPERTURBE
SAVANTISM
THE SHIP STARTING
I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
WHAT PLACE IS BESIEGED?
STILL THOUGH THE ONE I SING
SHUT NOT YOUR DOORS
POETS TO COME
TO YOU
THOU READER
STARTING FROM PAUMANOK
SONG OF MYSELF
CHILDREN OF ADAM
TO THE GARDEN THE WORLD
FROM PENT-UP ACHING RIVERS
I SING THE BODY ELECTRIC
A WOMAN WAITS FOR ME
SPONTANEOUS ME
ONE HOUR TO MADNESS AND JOY
OUT OF THE ROLLING OCEAN THE CROWD
AGES AND AGES RETURNING AT INTERVALS
WE TWO, HOW LONG WE WERE FOOL’D
O HYMEN! O HYMENEE!
I AM HE THAT ACHES WITH LOVE
NATIVE MOMENTS
ONCE I PASS’D THROUGH A POPULOUS CITY
I HEARD YOU SOLEMN-SWEET PIPES OF THE ORGAN
FACING WEST FROM CALIFORNIA’S SHORES
AS ADAM EARLY IN THE MORNING
CALAMUS
IN PATHS UNTRODDEN
SCENTED HERBAGE OF MY BREAST
WHOEVER YOU ARE HOLDING ME NOW IN HAND
FOR YOU O DEMOCRACY
THESE I SINGING IN SPRING
NOT HEAVING FROM MY RIBB’D BREAST ONLY
OF THE TERRIBLE DOUBT OF APPEARANCES
THE BASE OF ALL METAPHYSICS
RECORDERS AGES HENCE
WHEN I HEARD AT THE CLOSE OF THE DAY
ARE YOU THE NEW PERSON DRAWN TOWARD ME?
ROOTS AND LEAVES THEMSELVES ALONE
NOT HEAT FLAMES UP AND CONSUMES
TRICKLE DROPS
CITY OF ORGIES
BEHOLD THIS SWARTHY FACE
I SAW IN LOUISIANA A LIVE-OAK GROWING
TO A STRANGER
THIS MOMENT YEARNING AND THOUGHTFUL
I HEAR IT WAS CHARGED AGAINST ME
THE PRAIRIE-GRASS DIVIDING
WHEN I PERUSE THE CONQUER’D FAME
WE TWO BOYS TOGETHER CLINGING
A PROMISE TO CALIFORNIA
HERE THE FRAILEST LEAVES OF ME
NO LABOR-SAVING MACHINE
A GLIMPSE
A LEAF FOR HAND IN HAND
EARTH, MY LIKENESS
I DREAM’D IN A DREAM
WHAT THINK YOU I TAKE MY PEN IN HAND?
TO THE EAST AND TO THE WEST
SOMETIMES WITH ONE I LOVE
TO A WESTERN BOY
FAST-ANCHOR’D ETERNAL O LOVE!
AMONG THE MULTITUDE
O YOU WHOM I OFTEN AND SILENTLY COME
THAT SHADOW MY LIKENESS
FULL OF LIFE NOW
SALUT AU MONDE!
SONG OF THE OPEN ROAD
CROSSING BROOKLYN FERRY
SONG OF THE ANSWERER
OUR OLD FEUILLAGE
A SONG OF JOYS
SONG OF THE BROAD-AXE
SONG OF THE EXPOSITION
SONG OF THE REDWOOD-TREE
A SONG FOR OCCUPATIONS
A SONG OF THE ROLLING EARTH
YOUTH, DAY, OLD AGE AND NIGHT
BIRDS OF PASSAGE
SONG OF THE UNIVERSAL
PIONEERS! O PIONEERS!
TO YOU
FRANCE, THE 18TH YEAR OF THESE STATES
MYSELF AND MINE
YEAR OF METEORS (1859-60)
A BROADWAY PAGEANT
SEA-DRIFT
OUT OF THE CRADLE ENDLESSLY ROCKING
AS I EBB’D WITH THE OCEAN OF LIFE
TEARS
TO THE MAN-OF-WAR-BIRD
ABOARD AT A SHIP’S HELM
ON THE BEACH AT NIGHT
THE WORLD BELOW THE BRINE
ON THE BEACH AT NIGHT ALONE
SONG FOR ALL SEAS, ALL SHIPS
PATROLING BARNEGAT
AFTER THE SEA-SHIP
BY THE ROADSIDE
A BOSTON BALLAD (1854)
EUROPE, THE 72D AND 73D YEARS OF THESE STATES
A HAND-MIRROR
GODS
GERMS
THOUGHTS
WHEN I HEARD THE LEARN’D ASTRONOMER
PERFECTIONS
O ME! O LIFE!
TO A PRESIDENT
I SIT AND LOOK OUT
TO RICH GIVERS
THE DALLIANCE OF THE EAGLES
ROAMING IN THOUGHT
A FARM PICTURE
A CHILD’S AMAZE
THE RUNNER
BEAUTIFUL WOMEN
MOTHER AND BABE
THOUGHT
VISOR’D
THOUGHT
GLIDING O‘ER ALL
HAST NEVER COME TO THEE AN HOUR
THOUGHT
TO OLD AGE
LOCATIONS AND TIMES
OFFERINGS
TO THE STATES, TO IDENTIFY THE 16TH, 17TH, OR 18TH PRESIDENTIAD
DRUM-TAPS
FIRST O SONGS FOR A PRELUDE
EIGHTEEN SIXTY-ONE
BEAT! BEAT! DRUMS!
FROM PAUMANOK STARTING I FLY LIKE A BIRD
SONG OF THE BANNER AT DAYBREAK
RISE O DAYS FROM YOUR FATHOMLESS DEEPS
THE CENTENARIAN’S STORY
CAVALRY CROSSING A FORD
BIVOUAC ON A MOUNTAIN SIDE
AN ARMY CORPS ON THE MARCH
BY THE BIVOUAC’S FITFUL FLAME
COME UP FROM THE FIELDS FATHER
VIGIL STRANGE I KEPT ON THE FIELD ONE NIGHT
A MARCH IN THE RANKS HARD-PREST, AND THE ROAD UNKNOWN
A SIGHT IN CAMP IN THE DAYBREAK GRAY AND DIM
AS TOILSOME I WANDER’D VIRGINIA’S WOODS
NOT THE PILOT
YEAR THAT TREMBLED AND REEL’D BENEATH ME
THE WOUND-DRESSER
LONG, TOO LONG AMERICA
GIVE ME THE SPLENDID SILENT SUN
OVER THE CARNAGE ROSE PROPHETIC A VOICE
I SAW OLD GENERAL AT BAY
THE ARTILLERYMAN’S VISION
ETHIOPIA SALUTING THE COLORS
NOT YOUTH PERTAINS TO ME
RACE OF VETERANS
WORLD TAKE GOOD NOTICE
O TAN-FACED PRAIRIE-BOY
LOOK DOWN FAIR MOON
RECONCILIATION
HOW SOLEMN AS ONE BY ONE
AS I LAY WITH MY HEAD IN YOUR LAP CAMERADO
DELICATE CLUSTER
TO A CERTAIN CIVILIAN
LO, VICTRESS ON THE PEAKS
SPIRIT WHOSE WORK IS DONE