The Patriotic Poems of Walt Whitman - Part 9
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Part 9

(Whom have you slaughter'd lately European headsman?

Whose is that blood upon you so wet and sticky?)

I see the clear sunsets of the martyrs, I see from the scaffolds the descending ghosts, Ghosts of dead lords, uncrown'd ladies, impeach'd ministers, rejected kings, Rivals, traitors, poisoners, disgraced chieftains and the rest.

I see those who in any land have died for the good cause, The seed is spare, nevertheless the crop shall never run out (Mind you O foreign kings, O priests, the crop shall never run out).

I see the blood wash'd entirely away from the axe, Both blade and helve are clean, They spirt no more the blood of European n.o.bles, they clasp no more the necks of queens.

I see the headsman withdraw and become useless, I see the scaffold untrodden and mouldy, I see no longer any axe upon it, I see the mighty and friendly emblem of the power of my own race, the newest, largest race.

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(America! I do not vaunt my love for you, I have what I have.)

The axe leaps!

The solid forest gives fluid utterances, They tumble forth, they rise and form, Hut, tent, landing, survey, Flail, plough, pick, crowbar, spade, Shingle, rail, prop, wainscot, jamb, lath, panel, gable, Citadel, ceiling, saloon, academy, organ, exhibition-house, library, Cornice, trellis, pilaster, balcony, window, turret, porch, Hoe, rake, pitchfork, pencil, wagon, staff, saw, jack-plane, mallet, wedge, rounce, Chair, tub, hoop, table, wicket, vane, sash, floor, Work-box, chest, string'd instrument, boat frame, and what not, Capitols of States, and capitol of the nation of States, Long stately rows in avenues, hospitals for orphans or for the poor or sick, Manhattan steamboats and clippers taking the measure of all seas.

The shapes arise!

Shapes of the using of axes anyhow, and the users and all that neighbours them, Cutters down of wood and haulers of it to the Pen.o.bscot or Kennebec, Dwellers in cabins among the Californian mountains or by the little lakes, or on the Columbia, Dwellers south on the banks of the Gila or Rio Grande, friendly gatherings, the characters and fun, Dwellers along the St. Lawrence, or north in Kanada, or down by the Yellowstone, dwellers on coasts and off coasts, Seal-fishers, whalers, arctic seamen breaking pa.s.sages through the ice.

The shapes arise!

Shapes of factories, a.r.s.enals, foundries, markets, Shapes of the two-threaded tracks of railroads, Shapes of the sleepers of bridges, vast frameworks, girders, arches, Shapes of the fleets of barges, tows, lake and ca.n.a.l craft, river craft, Ship-yards and dry-docks along the Eastern and Western seas, and in many a bay and by-place, The live-oak kelsons, the pine planks, the spars, the hackmatack-roots for knees, The ships themselves on their ways, the tiers of scaffolds, the workmen busy outside and inside, The tools lying around, the great auger and little auger, the adze, bolt, line, square, gouge, and bead-plane.

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The shapes arise!

The shape measur'd, saw'd, jack'd, join'd, stain'd, The coffin-shape for the dead to lie within in his shroud, The shape got out in posts, in the bedstead posts, in the posts of the bride's bed, The shape of the little trough, the shape of the rockers beneath, the shape of the babe's cradle, The shape of the floor-planks, the floor-planks for dancers' feet, The shape of the planks of the family home, the home of the friendly parents and children, The shape of the roof of the home of the happy young man and woman, the roof over the well-married young man and woman, The roof over the supper joyously cook'd by the chaste wife, and joyously eaten by the chaste husband, content after his day's work.

The shapes arise!

The shape of the prisoner's place in the court-room, and of him or her seated in the place, The shape of the liquor-bar lean'd against by the young rum-drinker and the old rum-drinker, The shape of the shamed and angry stairs trod by sneaking footsteps, The shape of the sly settee, and the adulterous unwholesome couple, The shape of the gambling-board with its devilish winnings and losings, The shape of the step-ladder for the convicted and sentenced murderer, the murderer with haggard face and pinion'd arms, The sheriff at hand with his deputies, the silent and white-lipp'd crowd, the dangling of the rope.

The shapes arise!

Shapes of doors giving many exits and entrances, The door pa.s.sing the dissever'd friend flush'd and in haste, The door that admits good news and bad news, The door whence the son left home confident and puff'd up, The door he enter'd again from a long and scandalous absence, diseas'd, broken down, without innocence, without means.

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Her shape arises, She less guarded than ever, yet more guarded than ever, The gross and soil'd she moves among do not make her gross and soil'd, She knows the thoughts as she pa.s.ses, nothing is conceal'd from her, She is none the less considerate or friendly therefor, She is the best belov'd, it is without exception, she has no reason to fear and she does not fear, Oaths, quarrels, hiccupp'd songs, s.m.u.tty expressions, are idle to her as she pa.s.ses, She is silent, she is possess'd of herself, they do not offend her, She receives them as the laws of Nature receive them, she is strong, She too is a law of Nature--there is no law stronger than she is.

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The main shapes arise!

Shapes of Democracy total, result of centuries, Shapes ever projecting other shapes, Shapes of turbulent manly cities, Shapes of the friends and home-givers of the whole earth, Shapes bracing the earth and braced with the whole earth.

GIVE ME THE SPLENDID SILENT SUN

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Give me the splendid silent sun with all his beams full-dazzling, Give me juicy autumnal fruit ripe and red from the orchard, Give me a field where the unmow'd gra.s.s grows, Give me an arbour, give me the trellis'd grape, Give me fresh corn and wheat, give me serene-moving animals teaching content, Give me nights perfectly quiet as on high plateaus west of the Mississippi, and I looking up at the stars, Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers where I can walk undisturb'd, Give me for marriage a sweet-breath'd woman of whom I should never tire, Give me a perfect child, give me away aside from the noise of the world a rural domestic life, Give me to warble spontaneous songs recluse by myself, for my own ears only, Give me solitude, give me Nature, give me again O Nature your primal sanities!

These demanding to have them (tired with ceaseless excitement, and rack'd by the war-strife), These to procure incessantly asking, rising in cries from my heart, While yet incessantly asking still I adhere to my city, Day upon day and year upon year O city, walking your streets, Where you hold me enchain'd a certain time refusing to give me up, Yet giving to make me glutted, enrich'd of soul, you give me forever faces (O I see what I sought to escape, confronting, reversing my cries, I see my own soul trampling down what it ask'd for).

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Keep your splendid silent sun, Keep your woods, O Nature, and the quiet places by the woods, Keep your fields of clover and timothy, and your corn-fields and orchards, Keep the blossoming buckwheat fields where the Ninth-month bees hum; Give me faces and streets--give me these phantoms incessant and endless along the trottoirs!

Give me interminable eyes--give me women--give me comrades and lovers by the thousand!

Let me see new ones every day--let me hold new ones by the hand every day!

Give me such shows--give me the streets of Manhattan!

Give me Broadway, with the soldiers marching--give me the sound of the trumpets and drums!

(The soldiers in companies or regiments--some starting away, flushed and reckless, Some, their time up, returning with thinn'd ranks, young, yet very old, worn, marching, noticing nothing) Give me the sh.o.r.es and wharves heavy-fringed with black ships!

O such for me! O an intense life, full to repletion and varied!

The life of the theatre, bar-room, huge hotel, for me!

The saloon of the steamer! the crowded excursion for me! the torchlight procession!

The dense brigade bound for the war, with high piled military wagons following; People, endless, streaming, with strong voices, pa.s.sions, pageants, Manhattan streets with their powerful throbs, with beating drums as now, The endless and noisy chorus, the rustle and clank of muskets (even the sight of the wounded), Manhattan crowds, with their turbulent musical chorus!

Manhattan faces and eyes forever for me.

FACES

The old face of the mother of many children, Whist! I am fully content.

Lull'd and late is the smoke of the First-day morning, It hangs low over the rows of trees by the fences, It hangs thin by the sa.s.safras and wild-cherry and cat-brier under them.

I saw the rich ladies in full dress at the soiree, I heard what the singers were singing so long, Heard who sprang in crimson youth from the white froth and the water-blue.

Behold a woman!

She looks out from her quaker cap, her face is clearer and more beautiful than the sky.

She sits in an armchair under the shaded porch of the farmhouse, The sun just shines on her old white head.

Her ample gown is of cream-hued linen, Her grandsons raised the flax, and her granddaughters spun it with the distaff and the wheel.

The melodious character of the earth, The finish beyond which philosophy cannot go and does not wish to go, The justified mother of men.

O MAGNET-SOUTH