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Leaves of Grass (1891-92)
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SONG AT SUNSET.
| SPLENDOR of ended day floating and filling me, |
| Hour prophetic, hour resuming the past, |
| Inflating my throat, you divine average, |
| You earth and life till the last ray gleams I sing. |
| Open mouth of my soul uttering gladness, |
| Eyes of my soul seeing perfection, |
| Natural life of me faithfully praising things, |
| Corroborating forever the triumph of things. |
| Illustrious what we name space, sphere of unnumber'd spirits, |
Illustrious the mystery of motion in all beings, even the tiniest
insect,
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| Illustrious the attribute of speech, the senses, the body, |
Illustrious the passing light—illustrious the pale reflection on the
new moon in the western sky,
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| Illustrious whatever I see or hear or touch, to the last. |
| In the satisfaction and aplomb of animals, |
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| In the annual return of the seasons, |
| In the hilarity of youth, |
| In the strength and flush of manhood, |
| In the grandeur and exquisiteness of old age, |
| In the superb vistas of death. |
| The heart, to jet the all-alike and innocent blood! |
| To breathe the air, how delicious! |
| To speak—to walk—to seize something by the hand! |
| To prepare for sleep, for bed, to look on my rose-color'd flesh! |
| To be conscious of my body, so satisfied, so large! |
| To be this incredible God I am! |
To have gone forth among other Gods, these men and women I
love.
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| Wonderful how I celebrate you and myself! |
| How my thoughts play subtly at the spectacles around! |
| How the clouds pass silently overhead! |
How the earth darts on and on! and how the sun, moon, stars,
dart on and on!
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| How the water sports and sings! (surely it is alive!) |
How the trees rise and stand up, with strong trunks, with branches
and leaves!
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(Surely there is something more in each of the trees, some living
soul.)
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| O amazement of things—even the least particle! |
| O spirituality of things! |
O strain musical flowing through ages and continents, now reaching
me and America!
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I take your strong chords, intersperse them, and cheerfully pass
them forward.
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| I too carol the sun, usher'd or at noon, or as now, setting, |
I too throb to the brain and beauty of the earth and of all the
growths of the earth,
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| I too have felt the resistless call of myself. |
| As I steam'd down the Mississippi, |
| As I wander'd over the prairies, |
| As I have lived, as I have look'd through my windows my eyes, |
As I went forth in the morning, as I beheld the light breaking in
the east,
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As I bathed on the beach of the Eastern Sea, and again on the
beach of the Western Sea,
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As I roam'd the streets of inland Chicago, whatever streets I have
roam'd,
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| Or cities or silent woods, or even amid the sights of war, |
Wherever I have been I have charged myself with contentment
and triumph.
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| I sing to the last the equalities modern or old, |
| I sing the endless finalés of things, |
| I say Nature continues, glory continues, |
| I praise with electric voice, |
| For I do not see one imperfection in the universe, |
And I do not see one cause or result lamentable at last in the
universe.
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| O setting sun! though the time has come, |
| I still warble under you, if none else does, unmitigated adoration. |
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