Full Online Books
Authors Authors Short Stories Short Stories Long Stories Long Stories Funny Stories Funny Stories Love Stories Love Stories Stories For Kids Stories For Kids Poems Poems Essays Essays Nonfictions Nonfictions Plays Plays Folktales Folktales Fairy Tales Fairy Tales Fables Fables Learning Kitchen Learning Kitchen
Valid XHTML 1.0 Transitional Free Classified Website Without Registration Free Classified Website Daniel Company
Twitter Twitter Add book
Full Online Book HomePoemsA Voice From Death
Famous Authors (View All Authors)
A Voice From Death Post by :pcprofit Category :Poems Author :Walt Whitman Date :June 2011 Read :1057

Click below to download : A Voice From Death (Format : PDF)

A Voice From Death

A voice from Death, solemn and strange, in all his sweep and power,

With sudden, indescribable blow--towns drown'd--humanity by thousands slain,

The vaunted work of thrift, goods, dwellings, forge, street, iron bridge,

Dash'd pell-mell by the blow--yet usher'd life continuing on,

(Amid the rest, amid the rushing, whirling, wild debris,

A suffering woman saved--a baby safely born!)

Although I come and unannounc'd, in horror and in pang,

In pouring flood and fire, and wholesale elemental crash, (this voice so solemn, strange,)

I too a minister of Deity.

Yea, Death, we bow our faces, veil our eyes to thee,

We mourn the old, the young untimely drawn to thee,

The fair, the strong, the good, the capable,

The household wreck'd, the husband and the wife, the engulfed forger in his forge,

The corpses in the whelming waters and the mud,

The gather'd thousands to their funeral mounds, and thousands never found or gather'd.

Then after burying, mourning the dead,

(Faithful to them found or unfound, forgetting not, bearing the past, here new musing,)

A day--a passing moment or an hour--America itself bends low,

Silent, resign'd, submissive.

War, death, cataclysm like this, America,

Take deep to thy proud prosperous heart.

E'en as I chant, lo! out of death, and out of ooze and slime,

The blossoms rapidly blooming, sympathy, help, love,

From West and East, from South and North and over sea,

Its hot-spurr'd hearts and hands humanity to human aid moves on;

And from within a thought and lesson yet.

Thou ever-darting Globe! through Space and Air!

Thou waters that encompass us!

Thou that in all the life and death of us, in action or in sleep!

Thou laws invisible that permeate them and all,

Thou that in all, and over all, and through and under all, incessant!

Thou! thou! the vital, universal, giant force resistless, sleepless, calm,

Holding Humanity as in thy open hand, as some ephemeral toy,

How ill to e'er forget thee!

For I too have forgotten,

(Wrapt in these little potencies of progress, politics, culture, wealth, inventions, civilization,)

Have lost my recognition of your silent ever-swaying power, ye mighty, elemental throes,

In which and upon which we float, and every one of us is buoy'd.

(The end)
Walt Whitman's poem: Voice From Death

If you like this book please share to your friends :

A Persian Lesson A Persian Lesson

A Persian Lesson
For his o'erarching and last lesson the greybeard sufi, In the fresh scent of the morning in the open air, On the slope of a teeming Persian rose-garden, Under an ancient chestnut-tree wide spreading its branches, Spoke to the young priests and students. "Finally my children, to envelop each word, each part of the rest, Allah is all, all, all--immanent in every life and object, May-be at many and many-a-more removes--yet Allah, Allah, Allah is there. "Has the estray wander'd far? Is the reason-why strangely hidden? Would you sound below the restless

Osceola Osceola

When his hour for death had come, He slowly rais'd himself from the bed on the floor, Drew on his war-dress, shirt, leggings, and girdled the belt around his waist, Call'd for vermilion paint (his looking-glass was held before him,) Painted half his face and neck, his wrists, and back-hands. Put the scalp-knife carefully in his belt--then lying down, resting moment, Rose again, half sitting, smiled, gave in silence his extended hand to each and all, Sank faintly low to the floor (tightly grasping the tomahawk handle,) Fix'd his look on wife and