Walt Whitman

LEAVES OF GRASS
(1891-92 issue)
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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 (...)
(......)