Poetry  |  Walt Whitman  |  Leaves of Grass  |  Sands at Seventy

Leaves of Grass — Sands at Seventy (Part 11 of 11)

death, or soldier's wound, of country's loss or
     safety,
(O heaven! what flash and started endless train of all!
     compared indeed to that!
What wretched shred e'en at the best of all!)

1888 1888-9

AN EVENING LULL

AFTER a week of physical anguish,
Unrest and pain, and feverish heat,
Toward the ending day a calm and lull comes on,
Three hours of peace and soothing rest of brain.2
1888 1888-9

OLD AGE'S LAMBENT PEAKS

THE touch of flame
     — the illuminating fire — the loftiest look
     at last,
O'er city, passion, sea — o'er prairie, mountain,
     wood — the earth itself;
The airy, different, changing hues of all, in falling twilight,
Objects and groups, bearings, faces, reminiscences;

The calmer sight — the golden setting, clear and
     broad:
So much i' the atmosphere, the points of view, the
     situations whence we scan,
Bro't out by them alone — so much (perhaps the
     best) unreck'd before;
The lights indeed from them — old age's lambent
     peaks.

1888 1889

AFTER THE SUPPER AND TALK

AFTER the supper and talk — after the day is done,
As a friend from friends his final withdrawal prolonging,
Good- bye and Good-bye with emotional lips repeating,
(So hard for his hand to release those hands — no
     more will they meet,
No more for communion of sorrow and joy, of old and
     young,
A far-stretching journey awaits him, to return no more,)
Shunning, postponing severance — seeking to ward
     off the last word ever so little,
E'en at the exit-door turning — charges superfluous
     calling back — e'en as he descends the steps,
Something to eke out a minute additional —
     shadows of nightfall deepening,
Farewells, messages lessening — dimmer the
     forthgoer's visage and form,
Soon to be lost for aye in the darkness — loth,
     O so loth to depart!
Garrulous to the very last.

1887 1888-9