to them,
(The time will come, though I stop here to-day and to-night.)
5
What is it then between us?
What is the count of the scores or hundreds of years between us?

Crossing Brooklyn Ferry(79-84)

Vaunted Ionia’s, India’s--Homer, Shakspere--the long, long times’
thick dotted roads, areas,
The shining clusters and the Milky Ways of stars--Nature’s pulses reap’d,

The Unexpress’d(2-5)

Not my least burden is that dulness of the years, querilities,
Ungracious glooms, aches, lethargy, constipation, whimpering ennui,

As I Sit Writing Here(1-3)

over each other and interwetting each other,
We are what the atmosphere is, transparent, receptive, pervious, impervious,

We Two, How Long We Were Fool’d(17-19)

Nor will I be able to leave behind me any wealthy bequest to found
hospital or library,
Nor reminiscence of any deed of courage for America,

No Labor-Saving Machine(2-5)

Nor that years will ever stop the existence of me, or any one else.
Is it wonderful that I should be immortal? as every one is immortal;

Who Learns My Lesson Complete(24-26)

Ready, collected here, a freer, vast, electric world, to be
constructed here,
(The true New World, the world of orbic science, morals, literatures
to come,)

Thou Mother with Thy Equal Brood(86-90)

The shadowy forms of men and horses, looming, large-sized, flickering,
And over all the sky--the sky! far, far out of reach, studded,

Bivouac on a Mountain Side(6-8)

They close peremptorily upon us to surround us, my comrade,
Yet we walk unheld, free, the whole earth over, journeying up and

To Him That Was Crucified(13-15)

the recruits,
You came, taciturn, with nothing to give--we but look’d on each other,

O Tan-Faced Prairie-Boy(3-5)

But I, my life surveying, closing,
With nothing to show to devise from its idle years,
Nor houses nor lands, nor tokens of gems or gold for my friends,

My Legacy(6-9)

(You distant, dim unknown--or young or old--countless, unspecified,
readers belov’d,
We never met, and neer shall meet--and yet our souls embrace, long,
close and long;)

Thanks in Old Age(7-11)

Those cart loads of old charnel ashes, scales and splints of mouldy bones,
Once living men--once resolute courage, aspiration, strength,

The Wallabout Martyrs(2-4)

Not traditions, not the outer authorities are the judges,
They are the judges of outer authorities and of all traditions,
They corroborate as they go only whatever corroborates themselves,

Tests(2-5)

attached to them as I do to men in my own lands,
O I know we should be brethren and lovers,

This Moment Yearning and Thoughtful(6-8)

lusty as Nature,
Not till the sun excludes you do I exclude you,
Not till the waters refuse to glisten for you and the leaves to

To a Common Prostitute(1-4)

jealousies, recriminations on every side,
They close peremptorily upon us to surround us, my comrade,
Yet we walk unheld, free, the whole earth over, journeying up and

To Him That Was Crucified(12-15)

I saw with hand uplifted, menacing, brandishing,
(Memories of old in abeyance, love and faith in abeyance,)
The insane knife toward the Mother of All.
The noble son on sinewy feet advancing,

Virginia--The West(1-5)

Hovering unseen in air, vibrates capricious tunes to-night.
I hear thee trumpeter, listening alert I catch thy notes,
Now pouring, whirling like a tempest round me,

The Mystic Trumpeter(2-5)

Thou ship of air that never furl’st thy sails,
Days, even weeks untired and onward, through spaces, realms gyrating,
At dusk that lookist on Senegal, at morn America,

To the Man-of-War-Bird(15-18)

Nor these the universes, they the universes,
Purport and end, ever the permanent life of life,
Eidolons, eidolons.
Beyond thy lectures learn’d professor,

Eidolons(57-61)

I would sing your contest for the 19th Presidentiad,
I would sing how an old man, tall, with white hair, mounted the
scaffold in Virginia,

Year of Meteors [1859-60(2-5)

Changes and transformations every hour, every moment,

Visor’d(2-3)

Rose from the hill-top, like applause and glory,
Welcoming in fame some special veteran, hero,
With rosy tinge reddening the land he’d served,

As the Greek’s Signal Flame(1-4)

North, South, all,

A Prairie Sunset(5-6)

Songs thereof would I sing, to all that hitherward comes would welcome give,
And you would I sing, fair stripling! welcome to you from me, young
prince of England!

Year of Meteors [1859-60(13-16)

And with him horse and foot, and parks of artillery,

What Place Is Besieged(2-3)

To her, the ideal woman, practical, spiritual, of all of earth,
life, love, to me the best,
I grave a monumental line, before I go, amid these songs,

As at Thy Portals Also Death(8-11)

That all these solid things are indeed but apparitions, concepts,

Apparitions(2-3)

To the wounded, the fallen, the heat, the suspense,
The perfume strong, the smoke, the deafening noise;
Away with your life of peace!--your joys of peace!

The Dying Veteran(15-18)