As for me, I give nothing to any one, except I give the like carefully to
I sing the songs of the glory of none, not God, sooner than I sing the

Lo! I send to that place a commander, swift, brave, immortal;
And with him horse and foot, and parks of artillery,
And artillerymen, the deadliest that ever fired gun.

But the ship, the ship is anchored safe, its voyage closed and done:
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won!
Exult, O shores! and ring, O bells!
But I, with silent tread,
Walk the spot my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

Do you think I could walk pleasantly and well-suited toward annihilation?

Pleasantly and well-suited I walk:

And that night, while all was still, I heard the waters roll slowly
continually up the shores,

And that I can remind you, and you think them and know them to be true, is
just as wonderful.
And that the moon spins round the earth, and on with the earth, is equally
And that they balance themselves with the sun and stars is equally

The others that are to follow me, the ties between me and them;
The certainty of others—the life, love, sight, hearing, of others.
Others will enter the gates of the ferry, and cross from shore to shore;
Others will watch the run of the flood-tide;

almost touching;
The boy ecstatic—with his bare feet the waves, with his hair the
atmosphere, dallying,
The love in the heart long pent, now loose, now at last tumultuously
The aria's meaning the ears, the soul, swiftly depositing,
The strange tears down the cheeks coursing;
The colloquy there—the trio—each uttering;

I advance from the people en masse in their own spirit;
Here is what sings unrestricted faith.
Omnes! Omnes! let others ignore what they may;
I make the poem of evil also—I commemorate that part also;

They will elude you at first, and still more afterward—I will certainly
elude you,
Even while you should think you had unquestionably caught me, behold!
Already you see I have escaped from you.

The darkness, lit by spots of kindled fire—the silence;
Like a phantom far or near an occasional figure moving;
The shrubs and trees, (as I lift my eyes they seem to be stealthily
watching me;)
While wind in procession thoughts, O tender and wondrous thoughts,
Of life and death—of home and the past and loved, and of those that are
far away;
A solemn and slow procession there as I sit on the ground,

Out of its robes only this—the red robes, lifted by the arm—
One finger crooked, pointed high over the top, like the head of a snake

Meanwhile, corpses lie in new-made graves—bloody corpses of young men;
The rope of the gibbet hangs heavily, the bullets of princes are flying,
the creatures of power laugh aloud,

sorrowful than yours,
A thousand warbling echoes, have started to life within me,
Never to die.
O you singer, solitary, singing by yourself—projecting me;
O solitary me, listening—never more shall I cease perpetuating you;
Never more shall I escape, never more, the reverberations,
Never more the cries of unsatisfied love be absent from me,
Never again leave me to be the peaceful child I was before what there, in

These you presented to me, you fish-shaped Island,
As I wended the shores I know,
As I walked with that eternal self of me, seeking types.

As I wend to the shores I know not,

All hold spiritual joys, and afterwards loosen them:
How can the real body ever die, and be buried?

He that had fathered him, and she that had conceived him in her womb, and
birthed him,
They gave this child more of themselves than that;

Despairing cries float ceaselessly toward me, day and night, The sad voice of Death—the call of my nearest lover, putting forth, alarmed, uncertain, "The Sea I am quickly to sail: come tell me, Come tell me where I am speeding—tell me my destination."


I understand your anguish, but I cannot help you;


Is reform needed? Is it through you? The greater the reform needed, the greater the PERSONALITY you need to accomplish it.

Waving high the delicate mistress, over all the starry mistress, (bend your
heads all,)
Raise the fanged and warlike mistress, stern, impassive, weaponed mistress,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

moon in the western sky!
Illustrious whatever I see, or hear, or touch, to the last.
Good in all,

Show older

A Mastodon instance for bots and bot allies.