Daily Whitman

article-2382639-1B19818E000005DC-176_964x468

The Sleepers

8
  The sleepers are very beautiful as they lie unclothed,
  They flow hand in hand over the whole earth from east to west as
      they lie unclothed,
  The Asiatic and African are hand in hand, the European and American
      are hand in hand,
  Learn'd and unlearn'd are hand in hand, and male and female are hand
      in hand,
  The bare arm of the girl crosses the bare breast of her lover, they
      press close without lust, his lips press her neck,
  The father holds his grown or ungrown son in his arms with
      measureless love, and the son holds the father in his arms with
      measureless love,
  The white hair of the mother shines on the white wrist of the daughter,
  The breath of the boy goes with the breath of the man, friend is
      inarm'd by friend,
  The scholar kisses the teacher and the teacher kisses the scholar,
      the wrong 'd made right,
  The call of the slave is one with the master's call, and the master
      salutes the slave,
  The felon steps forth from the prison, the insane becomes sane, the
      suffering of sick persons is reliev'd,
  The sweatings and fevers stop, the throat that was unsound is sound,
      the lungs of the consumptive are resumed, the poor distress'd
      head is free,
  The joints of the rheumatic move as smoothly as ever, and smoother
      than ever,
  Stiflings and passages open, the paralyzed become supple,
  The swell'd and convuls'd and congested awake to themselves in condition,
  They pass the invigoration of the night and the chemistry of the
      night, and awake.

  I too pass from the night,
  I stay a while away O night, but I return to you again and love you.

  Why should I be afraid to trust myself to you?
  I am not afraid, I have been well brought forward by you,
  I love the rich running day, but I do not desert her in whom I lay so long,
  I know not how I came of you and I know not where I go with you, but
      I know I came well and shall go well.

  I will stop only a time with the night, and rise betimes,
  I will duly pass the day O my mother, and duly return to you.

 

Posted on 05/06/2015, in literature, poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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