Not in the murmurs of my dreams while I sleep, Nor the other murmurs of these incredible dreams of every day; Nor in the limbs and senses of my body, that take you and dismiss you continually—Not there; Not in any or all of them, O Adhesiveness! O pulse of my life! Need I that you exist and show yourself, any more than in these songs. WH AUXILIARIES. HAT place is besieged, and vainly tries to raise the siege? Lo! I send to that place a commander, swift, brave, im mortal; And with him horse and foot, and parks of artillery, REALITIES. I. AS I walk, solitary, unattended, Around me I hear that eclat of the world—politics, produce, The announcements of recognised things—science, The approved growth of cities, and the spread of inven tions. I see the ships, (they will last a few years,) The vast factories, with their foremen and workmen, And hear the endorsement of all, and do not object to it. 2. But I too announce solid things; Science, ships, politics, cities, factories, are not nothing— they serve, They stand for realities—all is as it should be. 3. Then my realities; What else is so real as mine? Libertad, and the divine Average—freedom to every slave on the face of the earth, The rapt promises and luminé* of seers—the spiritual world—these centuries-lasting songs, And our visions, the visions of poets, the most solid announcements of any. I suppose Whitman gets this odd word luminé, by a process of his own, out of illuminati, and intends it to stand for what would be called clairvoyance, intuition. For we support all, After the rest is done and gone, we remain; There is no final reliance but upon us; Democracy rests finally upon us, (I, my brethren, begin it), And our visions sweep through eternity. NEARING DEPARTURE. S nearing departure, 1. As the time draws nigh, glooming, a cloud, A dread beyond, of I know not what, darkens me. I shall go forth, 2. I shall traverse the States—but I cannot tell whither or how long; Perhaps soon, some day or night while I am singing, my voice will suddenly cease. 3. O book and chant! must all then amount to but this? Must we barely arrive at this beginning of me? And yet it is enough, O soul! O soul! we have positively appeared—that is enough. POETS TO COME. I. OETS to come! PO Not to-day is to justify me, and Democracy, and what we are for; But you, a new brood, native, athletic, continental, greater than before known, You must justify me. 2. I but write one or two indicative words for the future, I but advance a moment, only to wheel and hurry back in the darkness. I am a man who sauntering along, without fully stopping, turns a casual look upon you, and then averts his face, Leaving it to you to prove and define it, Expecting the main things from you. CENTURIES HENCE. ULL of life now, compact, visible, FULL I, forty years old the eighty-third year of the States, To one a century hence, or any number of centuries hence, To you, yet unborn, these seeking you. When you read these, I, that was visible, am become invisible; Now it is you, compact, visible, realizing my poems, seeking me; Fancying how happy you were, if I could be with you, and become your loving comrade; Be it as if I were with you. Be not too certain but I am now with you. SO LONG. I. O conclude—I announce what comes after me, I announce mightier offspring, orators, days, and then depart. I remember I said, before my leaves sprang at all, I would raise my voice jocund and strong, with reference to consummations. When America does what was promised, |