When I wander'd alone over the beach, and undressing, bathed, laughing with the cool waters, and saw the sun rise, And when I thought how my dear friend, my lover, was on his way coming, O then I was happy; O then each breath tasted sweeter-and all that day my food nourish'd me more—and the beautiful day pass'd well, And the next came with equal joy—and with the next, at evening, came my friend; And that night, while all was still, I heard the waters roll slowly continually up the shores, I heard the hissing rustle of the liquid and sands, as directed to me, whispering, to congratulate me, ΙΟ For the one I love most lay sleeping by me under the same cover in the cool night, In the stillness, in the autumn moonbeams, his face was inclined toward me, And his arm lay lightly around my breast-and that night I was happy. ARE YOU THE NEW PERSON DRAWN TOWARD ME? First published in 1860. ARE you the new person drawn toward me ?1 To begin with, take warning-I am surely' far different from what you suppose ; Do you suppose you will find in me your ideal? Do you think it so easy to have me become your lover? Do you think the friendship of me would be unalloy'd satisfaction? Do you think I am trusty and faithful? Do you see no further than this façade this smooth and tolerant manner of me? Do you suppose yourself advancing on real ground toward a real heroic man? Have you no thought, O dreamer, that it may be all maya, illusion ?3 1 1860 adds "and asking something significant from me?" 2 1860. For "surely" reads "probably." 1860 adds "O the next step may precipitate you!" ROOTS AND LEAVES THEMSELVES ALONE. First published in 1860. ROOTS and leaves themselves alone are these ;1 Scents brought to men and women from the wild woods, and from the pond-side, Breast-sorrel and pinks of love-fingers that wind around tighter than vines, Gushes from the throats of birds, hid in the foliage of trees, as the sun is risen ; Breezes of land and love-breezes set from living shores out to you on the living sea-to you, O sailors! Frost-mellow'd berries, and Third-month twigs, offer'd fresh to young persons wandering out in the fields when the winter breaks up, Love-buds, put before you and within you, whoever you are, If you bring the warmth of the sun to them, they will open, and bring form, color, perfume, to you; If you become the aliment and the wet, they will become flowers, fruits, tall branches and trees.' NOT HEAT FLAMES UP AND CONSUMES. First published in 1860. NOT heat flames up and consumes, Not sea-waves hurry in an out, Not the air, delicious and dry, the air of the ripe summer, bears lightly along white down-balls of myriads of seeds, Wafted, sailing gracefully, to drop where they may; Not these-O none of these, more than the flames of me, consuming, burning for his love whom I love! O none, more than I, hurrying in and out: 1 1860 reads "Calamus taste, (For I must change the strain-these are not to be pensive leaves, but leaves of joy,) Root and leaves unlike any but themselves." After line 10, 1860 reads "They are comprised in you just as much as in themselves-perhaps more than in themselves, They are not comprised in one season or succession, but many successions, They have come slowly up out of the earth and me, and are to come slowly up out of you." -Does the tide hurry, seeking something, and never give up? OI the same; O nor down-balls, nor perfumes, nor the high, rain-emitting clouds, are borne through the open air, Any more than my Soul is borne through the open air, ΙΟ TRICKLE, DROPS. First published in 1860. TRICKLE, drops! my blue veins leaving !1 O drops of me! trickle, slow drops, Candid, from me falling-drip, bleeding drops, From wounds made to free you whence you were prison'd, From my breast-from within where I was conceal'd-press forth, red drops-confession drops; Stain every page-stain every song I sing, every word I say, bloody drops; Let them know your scarlet heat-let them glisten ; Saturate them with yourself, all ashamed and wet; Glow upon all I have written, or shall write, bleeding drops; 10 Let it all be seen in your light, blushing drops. CITY OF ORGIES. First published in 1860. CITY of orgies, walks and joys !2 City whom that I have lived and sung in your midst3 will one day make you illustrious, Not the pageants of you-not your shifting tableaux, your spectacles, repay me ; Not the interminable rows of your houses-nor the ships at the wharves, Nor the processions in the streets, nor the bright windows, with goods in them; 1 Line I added in 1867. 2 1860 reads "City of my walks and joys!" 3 in your midst" added in 1867. Nor to converse with learn'd persons, or bear my share in the soiree or feast; Not those-but, as I pass, O Manhattan! your frequent and swift flash of eyes offering me love, Offering response to my own-these repay me; BEHOLD THIS SWARTHY FACE. First published in 1860. 'BEHOLD this swarthy face-these gray eyes, This beard--the white wool, unclipt upon my neck, My brown hands, and the silent manner of me, without charm ; Yet comes one, a Manhattanese, and ever at parting, kisses me lightly on the lips with robust love, And I, on the crossing of the street, or on the ship's deck, give a kiss in return; We observe that salute of American comrades, land and sea, I SAW IN LOUISIANA A LIVE-OAK GROWING. First published in 1860. I SAW in Louisiana a live-oak growing, All alone stood it, and the moss hung down from the branches; Without any companion it grew there, uttering joyous leaves of dark green, And its look, rude, unbending, lusty, made me think of myself; But I wonder'd how it could utter joyous leaves, standing alone there, without its friend, its lover near-for I knew I could not; And I broke off a twig with a certain number of leaves upon it, and twined around it a little moss, And brought it away-and I have placed it in sight in my room; It is not needed to remind me as of my own dear friends, 1 1860 begins "Mind you the timid models of the rest, the majority? Long I minded them but hence I will not-for I have adopted models for myself, and now offer them to The Lands." 2 1860 reads "Behold this swarthy and unrefined face-these gray eyes." 1867 reads “Behold this swarthy, this unrefined face-these gray eyes." 3 1860 '67 read "And I in the public room, or on the crossing," etc. (For I believe lately I think of little else than of them ;) Yet it remains to me a curious token-it makes me think of manly love; ΙΟ For all that, and though the live-oak glistens there in Louisiana, solitary, in a wide flat space, Uttering joyous leaves all its life, without a friend, a lover, near, I know very well I could not. TO A STRANGER. First published in 1860. PASSING stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you, You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me, as of a dream,) I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you, All is recall'd as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured, You grew up with me, were a boy with me, or a girl with me, I ate with you, and slept with you-your body has become not yours only, nor left my body mine only, You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass— you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return, I am not to speak to you—I am to think of you when I sit alone, or wake at night alone, I am to wait-I do not doubt I am to meet you again, I am to see to it that I do not lose you. ΙΟ THIS MOMENT, YEARNING AND THOUGHTFUL. First published in 1860. THIS moment yearning and thoughtful, sitting alone,1 It seems to me there are other men in other lands, yearning and thoughtful; It seems to me I can look over and behold them, in Germany, Italy, France, Spain-or far, far away, in China, or in Russia or India-talking other dialects; 1 1860 reads "This moment as I sit alone, yearning and thoughtful." |