WHISPERS OF HEAVENLY
DEATH.

DAREST THOU NOW O SOUL.

DAREST thou now O soul,

Walk out with me toward the unknown region,

Where neither ground is for the feet nor any path to follow?

No map there, nor guide,

Nor voice sounding, nor touch of human hand,

Nor face with blooming flesh, nor lips, nor eyes, are in that land.

I know it not O soul,

Nor dost thou, all is a blank before us,

All waits undream'd of in that region, that inaccessible land.

Till when the ties loosen,

All but the ties eternal, Time and Space,

Nor darkness, gravitation, sense, nor any bounds bounding us.

Then we burst forth, we float,

In Time and Space O soul, prepared for them,

Equal, equipt at last, (O joy! O fruit of all!) them to fulfil O soul.

WHISPERS OF HEAVENLY DEATH.

WHISPERS of heavenly death murmur'd I hear,

Labial gossip of night, sibilant chorals,

Footsteps gently ascending, mystical breezes wafted soft and low, Ripples of unseen rivers, tides of a current flowing, forever flowing, (Or is it the plashing of tears? the measureless waters of human tears?)

I see, just see skyward, great cloud-masses,

Mournfully slowly they roll, silently swelling and mixing,

With at times a half-dimm'd sadden'd far-off star,

Appearing and disappearing.

(Some parturition rather, some solemn immortal birth; On the frontiers to eyes impenetrable,

Some soul is passing over.)

CHANTING THE SQUARE DEIFIC.

I

CHANTING the square deific, out of the One advancing, out of the sides,

Out of the old and new, out of the square entirely divine,

Solid, four-sided, (all the sides needed,) from this side Jehovah am I,

Old Brahm I, and I Saturnius am;

Not Time affects me - I am Time, old, modern as any,

Unpersuadable, relentless, executing righteous judgments,
As the Earth, the Father, the brown old Kronos, with laws,

Aged beyond computation, yet ever new, ever with those mighty laws rolling,

Relentless I forgive no man whoever sins dies- I will have that man's life;

Therefore let none expect mercy have the seasons, gravitation, the appointed days, mercy? no more have I,

But as the seasons and gravitation, and as all the appointed days that forgive not,

I dispense from this side judgments inexorable without the least

remorse.

2

Consolator most mild, the promis'd one advancing,

With gentle hand extended, the mightier God am I,

Foretold by prophets and poets in their most rapt prophecies and poems,

From this side, lo! the Lord Christ gazes-lo! Hermes I-lo! mine is Hercules' face,

All sorrow, labor, suffering, I, tallying it, absorb in myself, Many times have I been rejected, taunted, put in prison, and crucified, and many times shall be again,

All the world have I given up for my dear brothers' and sisters' sake, for the soul's sake,

Wending my way through the homes of men, rich or poor, with the kiss of affection,

For I am affection, I am the cheer-bringing God, with hope and all-enclosing charity,

With indulgent words as to children, with fresh and sane words, mine only,

Young and strong I pass knowing well I am destin'd myself to an

early death;

But my charity has no death my wisdom dies not, neither early

nor late,

And my sweet love bequeath'd here and elsewhere never dies.

3

Aloof, dissatisfied, plotting revolt,

Comrade of criminals, brother of slaves,
Crafty, despised, a drudge, ignorant,

With sudra face and worn brow, black, but in the depths of my heart, proud as any,

Lifted now and always against whoever scorning assumes to rule me, Morose, full of guile, full of reminiscences, brooding, with many wiles,

(Though it was thought I was baffled and dispel'd, and my wiles done, but that will never be,)

Defiant, I, Satan, still live, still utter words, in new lands duly appearing, (and old ones also,)

Permanent here from my side, warlike, equal with any, real as any, Nor time nor change shall ever change me or my words.

Santa Spirita, breather, life,

4

Beyond the light, lighter than light,

Beyond the flames of hell, joyous, leaping easily above hell,
Beyond Paradise, perfumed solely with mine own perfume,

Including all life on earth, touching, including God, including
Saviour and Satan,

Ethereal, pervading all, (for without me what were all? what were God?)

Essence of forms, life of the real identities, permanent, positive, (namely the unseen,)

Life of the great round world, the sun and stars, and of man,
I, the general soul,

Here the square finishing, the solid, I the most solid,
Breathe my breath also through these songs.

OF HIM I LOVE DAY AND NIGHT.

Of him I love day and night I dream'd I heard he was dead, And I dream'd I went where they had buried him I love, but he was not in that place,

And I dream'd I wander'd searching among burial-places to find him,

And I found that every place was a burial-place;

The houses full of life were equally full of death, (this house is

now,)

The streets, the shipping, the places of amusement, the Chicago, Boston, Philadelphia, the Mannahatta, were as full of the dead as of the living,

age,

And fuller, O vastly fuller of the dead than of the living;
And what I dream'd I will henceforth tell to every person and
And I stand henceforth bound to what I dream'd,
And now I am willing to disregard burial-places and dispense
with them,

And if the memorials of the dead were put up indifferently everywhere, even in the room where I eat or sleep, I should be satisfied,

And if the corpse of any one I love, or if my own corpse, be duly render'd to powder and pour'd in the sea, I shall be

satisfied,

Or if it be distributed to the winds I shall be satisfied.

YET, YET, YE DOWNCAST HOURS.

YET, yet, ye downcast hours, I know ye also,

Weights of lead, how ye clog and cling at my ankles,

Earth to a chamber of mourning turns I hear the o'erweening, mocking voice,

Matter is conqueror— matter, triumphant only, continues onward.

Despairing cries float ceaselessly toward me,

The call of my nearest lover, putting forth, alarm'd, 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,

I approach, hear, behold, the sad mouth, the look out of the eyes, your mute inquiry,

Whither I go from the bed I recline on, come tell me ;

Old age, alarm'd, uncertain-a young woman's voice, appealing to me for comfort;

A young man's voice, Shall I not escape?

AS IF A PHANTOM CARESS'D ME

As if a phantom caress'd me,

I thought I was not alone walking here by the shore;

But the one I thought was with me as now I walk by the shore,

the one I loved that caress'd me,

As I lean and look through the glimmering light, that one has

utterly disappear'd,

And those appear that are hateful to me and mock me.

ASSURANCES.

I NEED no assurances, I am a man who is pre-occupied of his

own soul;

I do not doubt that from under the feet and beside the hands and face I am cognizant of, are now looking faces I am not cognizant of, calm and actual faces,

I do not doubt but the majesty and beauty of the world are latent in any iota of the world,

I do not doubt I am limitless, and that the universes are limitless, in vain I try to think how limitless,

I do not doubt that the orbs and the systems of orbs play their swift sports through the air on purpose, and that I shall one day be eligible to do as much as they, and more than they, I do not doubt that temporary affairs keep on and on millions of years,

I do not doubt interiors have their interiors, and exteriors have their exteriors, and that the eyesight has another eyesight, and the hearing another hearing, and the voice another voice,

I do not doubt that the passionately-wept deaths of young men are provided for, and that the deaths of young women and the deaths of little children are provided for,

(Did you think Life was so well provided for, and Death, the purport of all Life, is not well provided for?)

I do not doubt that wrecks at sea, no matter what the horrors of them, no matter whose wife, child, husband, father, lover, has gone down, are provided for, to the minutest points, I do not doubt that whatever can possibly happen anywhere at any time, is provided for in the inherences of things,

I do not think Life provides for all and for Time and Space, but I believe Heavenly Death provides for all.

QUICKSAND YEARS.

QUICKSAND years that whirl me I know not whither,

Your schemes, politics, fail, lines give way, substances mock and elude me,

Only the theme I sing, the great and strong-possess'd soul, eludes

not,

One's-self must never give way—that is the final substance that out of all is sure,

Out of politics, triumphs, battles, life, what at last finally remains? When shows break up what but One's-Self is sure?