Inscriptions
Inscriptions
ONE'S-SELF I SING
Yet utter the word Democratic, the word En-Masse.
Of physiology from top to toe I sing,
Not physiognomy alone nor brain alone is worthy for the
Muse, I say
the Form complete is worthier far,
The Female equally with the Male I sing.
Of Life immense in passion, pulse, and power,
Cheerful, for freest action form'd under the laws divine,
The
Modern Man I sing.
1867 1871
AS I PONDER'D IN SILENCE
Returning upon my poems, considering, lingering long,
A Phantom arose before me with distrustful aspect,
Terrible in beauty, age, and power,
The genius of poets of old lands,
As to me directing like flame its eyes,
With finger pointing to many immortal songs,
And menacing voice, What singest thou? it said,
Know'st thou not there is but one theme for ever-enduring bards?
And that is the theme of War, the fortune of battles,
The making of perfect soldiers.
Be it so, then I answer'd,
I too haughty Shade also sing war, and a longer and greater one
than any,
Waged
in my book with varying fortune, with flight, advance
and retreat, victory deferr'd and wavering,
(Yet methinks
certain, or as good as certain, at the last,) the
field the world,
For life and death, for the Body and for the
eternal Soul,
Lo, I too am come, chanting the chant of battles,
I above all promote brave soldiers.
1871 1871
IN CABIN'D SHIPS AT SEA
The boundless blue on every side expanding,
With whistling winds and music of the waves, the large
imperious waves,
Or some lone bark buoy'd on the dense marine,
Where joyous full of faith, spreading white sails,
She cleaves the ether mid the sparkle and the foam of day, or
under many a star at night,
By sailors young and old haply will I, a reminiscence of the
land, be read,
In full rapport at last.
Here are our thoughts, voyagers' thoughts,
Here not the land, firm land, alone appears, may then by them
be
said,
The sky o'erarches here, we feel the undulating deck beneath
our feet,
We feel the long pulsation,
ebb and flow of endless motion.
The tones of unseen mystery, the vague and vast suggestions of
the
briny world, the liquid-flowing syllables,
The perfume, the faint creaking of the cordage, the melancholy
rhythm,
The
boundless vista and the horizon far and dim are all here,
And this is ocean's poem.
Then falter not O book, fulfil your destiny,
You not a reminiscence of the land alone,
You too as a lone
bark cleaving the ether, purpos'd I know
not whither, yet ever full of faith,
Consort to every ship that sails,
sail you!
Bear forth to them folded my love, (dear mariners, for you
I fold it here in every leaf;)
Speed on my book! spread your white sails my little bark
athwart the imperious waves,
Chant on, sail on,
bear o'er the boundless blue from me to
every sea,
This song for mariners and all their ships.
1871 1881
TO FOREIGN LANDS
New World,
And to define America, her athletic Democracy,
Therefore I send you my poems that you behold in them
what you wanted.
1860 1871
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