Thursday, March 26, 2009


Death of Walt Whitman, March 26, 1892

From my friends of the cyberwalt list serv:

Today is the day Walt Whitman died.
Living in Camden, NJ at Mickle Street.
He is buried at Harleigh Cemetery in a granite "burial house" of his own construction.


The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me,
he complains of my gab
and my loitering.

I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable,
I sound my barbaric yaws over the roofs of the world.

The last scud of day holds back for me,
It flings my likeness after the rest and true as any on the shadow'd wilds,

It coaxes me to the vapor and the dusk.
I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runaway sun,
I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags.

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,
If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.

You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.

Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop somewhere waiting for you.

-- Walt Whitman

Hi. I found this post while working on an article about Whitman, and so I linked back to you from here.
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