4 The Lord advances, and yet advances, Always the shadow in front, always the reach'd hand bringing up the laggards. Out of this face emerge banners and horses—O superb! I see what is coming, I see the high pioneer-caps, see staves of runners clearing the way, I hear victorious drums. This face is a life-boat, This is the face commanding and bearded, it asks no odds of the rest, This face is flavor'd fruit ready for eating, This face of a healthy honest boy is the programme of all good. These faces bear testimony slumbering or awake, They show their descent from the Master himself. Off the word I have spoken I except not one—red, white, black, are all deific, In each house is the ovum, it comes forth after a thousand years. Spots or cracks at the windows do not disturb me, Tall and sufficient stand behind and make signs to me, I read the promise and patiently wait. This is a full-grown lily's face, She speaks to the limber-hipp'd man near the garden pickets, Come here she blushingly cries, Come nigh to me limber-hipp'd man, Stand at my side till I lean as high as I can upon you, Fill me with albescent honey, bend down to me, Rub to me with your chafing beard, rub to my breast and shoulders.
Posted on 18/07/2015, in literature, poetry and tagged 19th Century Poetry, American literature, American poets, Daily Whitman, free verse, Leaves of Grass, literature, poems, poetry, Transcendentalists, Walt Whitman. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.