O the engineer's joys! To go with a locomotive ! ΤΟ To hear the hiss of steam-the merry shriek-the steam-whistle -the laughing locomotive! To push with resistless way, and speed off in the distance. O the gleesome saunter over fields and hill-sides! The leaves and flowers of the commonest weeds-the moist fresh stillness of the woods, The exquisite smell of the earth at day-break, and all through the forenoon.1 O the horseman's and horsewoman's joys! The saddle the gallop-the pressure upon the seat-the cool gurgling by the ears and hair. O the fireman's joys! 3 I hear the alarm at dead of night, I hear bells-shouts !—I pass the crowd--I run! The sight of the flames maddens me with pleasure. 20 O the joy of the strong-brawn'd fighter, towering in the arena, in perfect condition, conscious of power, thirsting to meet his opponent. O the joy of that vast elemental sympathy which only the human Soul is capable of generating and emitting in steady and limitless floods. O the mother's joys! 4 The watching the endurance-the precious love-the anguish -the patiently yielded life. O the joy of increase, growth, recuperation; The joy of soothing and pacifying-the joy of concord and harmony. 1 Lines 14-16 in 1860 '67 are placed after line 165, after which 1860 '67 add "O love-branches! love-root! love-apples! O chaste and electric torrents! O mad-sweet drops." O to go back to the place where I was born! To hear the birds sing once more ! 30 To ramble about the house and barn, and over the fields, once more, And through the orchard and along the old lanes once more. O male and female ! 5 O the presence of women! (I swear there is nothing more ex-' quisite to me than the mere presence of women ;) O for the girl, my mate! O for the happiness with my mate! O the young man as I pass! O I am sick after the friendship of him who, I fear, is indifferent to me. O the streets of cities! The flitting faces-the expressions, eyes, feet, costumes! O I cannot tell how welcome they are to me.1 6 O to have been brought up on bays, lagoons, creeks, or along the coast! O to continue and be employ'd there all my life! 40 O the briny and damp smell—the shore-the salt weeds exposed at low water, The work of fishermen-the work of the eel-fisher and clamfisher. O it is I ! I come with my clam-rake and spade! I come with my eel-spear; some young man. In winter I take my eel-basket and eel-spear and travel out on foot on the ice-I have a small axe to cut holes in the ice; Behold me, well-clothed, going gaily, or returning in the afternoon-my brood of tough boys accompaning me, My brood of grown and part-grown boys, who love to be with no one else so well as they love to be with me, By day to work with me, and by night to sleep with me. 50 1 After line 38, 1860 '67 add "O of men-of women toward me as I pass -The memory of only one look-the boy lingering and waiting." Or, another time, in warm weather, out in a boat, to lift the lobster-pots, where they are sunk with heavy stones, (I know the buoys ;) O the sweetness of the Fifth-month morning upon the water, as I row, just before sunrise, toward the buoys; I pull the wicker pots up slantingly-the dark-green lobsters are desperate with their claws, as I take them out-I insert wooden pegs in the joints of their pincers, I go to all the places, one after another, and then row back to the shore, There, in a huge kettle of boiling water, the lobsters shall be boil'd till their color becomes scarlet. Or, another time, mackerel-taking, Voracious, mad for the hook, near the surface, they seem to fill the water for miles : Or, another time, fishing for rock-fish, in Chesapeake Bay—I one of the brown-faced crew: Or, another time, trailing for blue-fish off Paumanok, I stand with braced body, My left foot is on the gunwale-my right arm throws the coils of slender rope, 60 In sight around me the quick veering and darting of fifty skiffs, my companions. O boating on the rivers! 7 The voyage down the Niagara, (the St. Lawrence, )—the superb scenery-the steamers, The ships sailing-the Thousand Islands—the occasional timberraft, and the raftsmen with long-reaching sweep-oars, The little huts on the rafts, and the stream of smoke when they cook their supper at evening. O something pernicious and dread! Something far away from a puny and pious life! Something unproved! Something in a trance! Something escaped from the anchorage, and driving free. O to work in mines, or forging iron! 70 Foundry casting-the foundry itself-the rude high roof-the ample and shadow'd space, The furnace-the hot liquid pour'd out and running. 8 O to resume the joys of the soldier : To feel the presence of a brave general! to feel his sympathy! To behold his calmness! to be warm'd in the rays of his smile! To go to battle! to hear the bugles play, and the drums beat! To hear the crash of artillery! to see the glittering of the bayonets and musket-barrels in the sun! To see men fall and die, and not complain! To taste the savage taste of blood! to be so devilish! 9 O the whaleman's joys! O I cruise my old cruise again! 80 I feel the ship's motion under me-I feel the Atlantic breezes fanning me, I hear the cry again sent down from the mast-head-There-she blows! -Again I spring up the rigging, to look with the rest-We see -we descend, wild with excitement, I leap in the lower'd boat-We row toward our prey, where he lies, We approach, stealthy and silent-I see the mountainous mass, lethargic, basking, I see the harpooneer standing up-I see the weapon dart from his vigorous arm: O swift, again, now, far out in the ocean, the wounded whale, settling, running to windward, tows me; -Again I see him rise to breathe-We row close again, I see a lance driven through his side, press'd deep, turn'd in the wound, 90 Again we back off-I see him settle again—the life is leaving him fast, As he rises, he spouts blood-I see him swim in circles narrower and narrower, swiftly cutting the water-I see him die; He gives one convulsive leap in the centre of the circle, and then falls flat and still in the bloody foam. ΙΟ O the old manhood of me, my joy! My children and grand-children-my white hair and beard, My largeness, calmness, majesty, out of the long stretch of my life. O the ripen'd joy of womanhood! O perfect happiness at last! I am more than eighty years of age-my hair, too, is pure white -I am the most venerable mother; 100 How clear is my mind! how all people draw nigh to me! What attractions are these, beyond any before? what bloom, more than the bloom of youth? What beauty is this that descends upon me, and rises out of me? O the orator's joys! To inflate the chest-to roll the thunder of the voice out from the ribs and throat, To make the people rage, weep, hate, desire, with yourself, O the joy of my soul leaning pois'd on itself-receiving identity through materials, and loving them-observing characters, and absorbing them; O my soul, vibrated back to me, from them-from facts, sight, hearing, touch, my phrenology, reason, articulation, comparison, memory, and the like; The real life of my senses and flesh, transcending my senses and flesh; My body, done with materials-my sight, done with my mate Proved to me this day,' beyond cavil, that it is not my material eyes which finally see, Nor my material body which finally loves, walks, laughs, shouts, embraces, procreates. O the farmer's joys! II Ohioan's, Illinoisian's, Wisconsinese', Kanadian's, Iowan's, Kansian's, Missourian's, Oregonese' joys; To rise at peep of day, and pass forth nimbly to work, To plow land in the fall for winter-sown crops, To plough land in the spring for maize, To train orchards-to graft the trees-to gather apples in the fall. O the pleasure with trees! The orchard-the forest-the oak, cedar, pine, pekan-tree, 120 1 Lines 103-6 in 1860 '67 are placed before line 138. |