First O songs for a prelude,
Lightly strike on the stretch'd tympanum pride and joy in my city,
How she led the rest to arms, how she gave the cue,
How at once with lithe2 limbs unwaiting a moment she sprang,
(O superb! O Manhattan, my own, my peerless!
O strongest you in the hour of danger, in crisis! O truer than steel!)
How you sprang—how you threw off the costumes of peace with
indifferent hand,
How your soft opera-music changed, and the drum and fife were heard
in their stead,
How you led to the war, (that shall serve for our prelude, songs of
soldiers,)
How Manhattan drum-taps led.
Forty years had I in my city seen soldiers parading,
Forty years as a pageant4, till unawares the lady of this teeming5 and
turbulent city,
Sleepless6 amid her ships, her houses, her incalculable wealth,
With her million children around her, suddenly,
At dead of night, at news from the south,
Incens'd struck with clinch'd hand the pavement.
A shock electric, the night sustain'd it,
Till with ominous7 hum our hive at daybreak pour'd out its myriads8.
From the houses then and the workshops, and through all the doorways9,
Leapt they tumultuous, and lo! Manhattan arming.
To the drum-taps prompt,
The young men falling in and arming,
The mechanics arming, (the trowel, the jack-plane, the blacksmith's
hammer, tost aside with precipitation,)
The lawyer leaving his office and arming, the judge leaving the court,
The driver deserting his wagon10 in the street, jumping down, throwing
the reins11 abruptly13 down on the horses' backs,
The salesman leaving the store, the boss, book-keeper, porter, all leaving;
Squads14 gather everywhere by common consent and arm,
The new recruits, even boys, the old men show them how to wear their
accoutrements, they buckle15 the straps16 carefully,
Outdoors arming, indoors arming, the flash of the musket-barrels,
The white tents cluster in camps, the arm'd sentries18 around, the
sunrise cannon19 and again at sunset,
Arm'd regiments20 arrive every day, pass through the city, and embark22
from the wharves23,
(How good they look as they tramp down to the river, sweaty, with
their guns on their shoulders!
How I love them! how I could hug them, with their brown faces and
their clothes and knapsacks cover'd with dust!)
The blood of the city up-arm'd! arm'd! the cry everywhere,
The flags flung out from the steeples of churches and from all the
public buildings and stores,
The tearful parting, the mother kisses her son, the son kisses his mother,
(Loth is the mother to part, yet not a word does she speak to detain him,)
The tumultuous escort, the ranks of policemen preceding, clearing the way,
The unpent enthusiasm, the wild cheers of the crowd for their favorites,
The artillery24, the silent cannons25 bright as gold, drawn26 along,
rumble27 lightly over the stones,
(Silent cannons, soon to cease your silence,
Soon unlimber'd to begin the red business;)
All the mutter of preparation, all the determin'd arming,
The hospital service, the lint28, bandages and medicines,
The women volunteering for nurses, the work begun for in earnest, no
mere29 parade now;
War! an arm'd race is advancing! the welcome for battle, no turning away!
War! be it weeks, months, or years, an arm'd race is advancing to
welcome it.
Mannahatta a-march—and it's O to sing it well!
It's O for a manly30 life in the camp.
And the sturdy artillery,
The guns bright as gold, the work for giants, to serve well the guns,
Unlimber them! (no more as the past forty years for salutes31 for
courtesies merely,
Put in something now besides powder and wadding.)
And you lady of ships, you Mannahatta,
Old matron of this proud, friendly, turbulent city,
Often in peace and wealth you were pensive32 or covertly33 frown'd amid
all your children,
But now you smile with joy exulting34 old Mannahatta.
Eighteen Sixty-One
Arm'd year—year of the struggle,
No dainty rhymes or sentimental35 love verses for you terrible year,
Not you as some pale poetling seated at a desk lisping cadenzas piano,
But as a strong man erect36, clothed in blue clothes, advancing,
carrying rifle on your shoulder,
With well-gristled body and sunburnt face and hands, with a knife in
the belt at your side,
As I heard you shouting loud, your sonorous37 voice ringing across the
continent,
Your masculine voice O year, as rising amid the great cities,
Amid the men of Manhattan I saw you as one of the workmen, the
dwellers38 in Manhattan,
Or with large steps crossing the prairies out of Illinois and Indiana,
Rapidly crossing the West with springy gait and descending39 the Allghanies,
Or down from the great lakes or in Pennsylvania, or on deck along
the Ohio river,
Or southward along the Tennessee or Cumberland rivers, or at
Chattanooga on the mountain top,
Saw I your gait and saw I your sinewy40 limbs clothed in blue, bearing
weapons, robust41 year,
Heard your determin'd voice launch'd forth42 again and again,
Year that suddenly sang by the mouths of the round-lipp'd cannon,
I repeat you, hurrying, crashing, sad, distracted year.
Beat! Beat! Drums!
Beat! beat! drums!—blow! bugles43! blow!
Through the windows—through doors—burst like a ruthless force,
Into the solemn church, and scatter44 the congregation,
Into the school where the scholar is studying;
Leave not the bridegroom quiet—no happiness must he have now with
his bride,
Nor the peaceful farmer any peace, ploughing his field or gathering45
his grain,
So fierce you whirr and pound you drums—so shrill46 you bugles blow.
Beat! beat! drums!—blow! bugles! blow!
Over the traffic of cities—over the rumble of wheels in the streets;
Are beds prepared for sleepers47 at night in the houses? no sleepers
must sleep in those beds,
No bargainers' bargains by day—no brokers48 or speculators—would
they continue?
Would the talkers be talking? would the singer attempt to sing?
Would the lawyer rise in the court to state his case before the judge?
Then rattle49 quicker, heavier drums—you bugles wilder blow.
Beat! beat! drums!—blow! bugles! blow!
Make no parley—stop for no expostulation,
Mind not the timid—mind not the weeper or prayer,
Mind not the old man beseeching50 the young man,
Let not the child's voice be heard, nor the mother's entreaties51,
Make even the trestles to shake the dead where they lie awaiting the
hearses,
So strong you thump52 O terrible drums—so loud you bugles blow.
From Paumanok Starting I Fly Like a Bird
From Paumanok starting I fly like a bird,
Around and around to soar to sing the idea of all,
To the north betaking myself to sing there arctic songs,
To Kanada till I absorb Kanada in myself, to Michigan then,
To Wisconsin, Iowa, Minnesota, to sing their songs, (they are inimitable;)
Then to Ohio and Indiana to sing theirs, to Missouri and Kansas and
Arkansas to sing theirs,
To Tennessee and Kentucky, to the Carolinas and Georgia to sing theirs,
To Texas and so along up toward California, to roam accepted everywhere;
To sing first, (to the tap of the war-drum if need be,)
The idea of all, of the Western world one and inseparable,
And then the song of each member of these States.
Song of the Banner at Daybreak
Poet:
O A new song, a free song,
Flapping, flapping, flapping, flapping, by sounds, by voices clearer,
By the wind's voice and that of the drum,
By the banner's voice and child's voice and sea's voice and father's voice,
Low on the ground and high in the air,
On the ground where father and child stand,
In the upward air where their eyes turn,
Where the banner at daybreak is flapping.
Words! book-words! what are you?
Words no more, for hearken and see,
My song is there in the open air, and I must sing,
With the banner and pennant53 a-flapping.
I'll weave the chord and twine54 in,
Man's desire and babe's desire, I'll twine them in, I'll put in life,
I'll put the bayonet's flashing point, I'll let bullets and slugs whizz,
(As one carrying a symbol and menace far into the future,
Crying with trumpet55 voice, Arouse and beware! Beware and arouse!)
I'll pour the verse with streams of blood, full of volition56, full of joy,
Then loosen, launch forth, to go and compete,
With the banner and pennant a-flapping.
Pennant:
Come up here, bard57, bard,
Come up here, soul, soul,
Come up here, dear little child,
To fly in the clouds and winds with me, and play with the measureless light.
Child:
Father what is that in the sky beckoning58 to me with long finger?
And what does it say to me all the while?
Father:
Nothing my babe you see in the sky,
And nothing at all to you it says—but look you my babe,
Look at these dazzling things in the houses, and see you the money-
shops opening,
And see you the vehicles preparing to crawl along the streets with goods;
These, ah these, how valued and toil'd for these!
How envied by all the earth.
Poet:
Fresh and rosy59 red the sun is mounting high,
On floats the sea in distant blue careering through its channels,
On floats the wind over the breast of the sea setting in toward land,
The great steady wind from west or west-by-south,
Floating so buoyant with milk-white foam60 on the waters.
But I am not the sea nor the red sun,
I am not the wind with girlish laughter,
Not the immense wind which strengthens, not the wind which lashes61,
Not the spirit that ever lashes its own body to terror and death,
But I am that which unseen comes and sings, sings, sings,
Which babbles62 in brooks63 and scoots in showers on the land,
Which the birds know in the woods mornings and evenings,
And the shore-sands know and the hissing64 wave, and that banner and pennant,
Aloft there flapping and flapping.
Child:
O father it is alive—it is full of people—it has children,
O now it seems to me it is talking to its children,
I hear it—it talks to me—O it is wonderful!
O it stretches—it spreads and runs so fast—O my father,
It is so broad it covers the whole sky.
Father:
Cease, cease, my foolish babe,
What you are saying is sorrowful to me, much 't displeases65 me;
Behold66 with the rest again I say, behold not banners and pennants67 aloft,
But the well-prepared pavements behold, and mark the solid-wall'd houses.
Banner and Pennant:
Speak to the child O bard out of Manhattan,
To our children all, or north or south of Manhattan,
Point this day, leaving all the rest, to us over all—and yet we know
not why,
For what are we, mere strips of cloth profiting nothing,
Only flapping in the wind?
Poet:
I hear and see not strips of cloth alone,
I hear the tramp of armies, I hear the challenging sentry68,
I hear the jubilant shouts of millions of men, I hear Liberty!
I hear the drums beat and the trumpets69 blowing,
I myself move abroad swift-rising flying then,
I use the wings of the land-bird and use the wings of the sea-bird,
and look down as from a height,
I do not deny the precious results of peace, I see populous70 cities
with wealth incalculable,
I see numberless farms, I see the farmers working in their fields or barns,
I see mechanics working, I see buildings everywhere founded, going
up, or finish'd,
I see trains of cars swiftly speeding along railroad tracks drawn by
the locomotives,
I see the stores, depots71, of Boston, Baltimore, Charleston, New Orleans,
I see far in the West the immense area of grain, I dwell awhile hovering73,
I pass to the lumber75 forests of the North, and again to the Southern
plantation76, and again to California;
Sweeping77 the whole I see the countless78 profit, the busy gatherings79,
earn'd wages,
See the Identity formed out of thirty-eight spacious80 and haughty81
States, (and many more to come,)
See forts on the shores of harbors, see ships sailing in and out;
Then over all, (aye! aye!) my little and lengthen'd pennant shaped
like a sword,
Runs swiftly up indicating war and defiance—and now the halyards
have rais'd it,
Side of my banner broad and blue, side of my starry83 banner,
Discarding peace over all the sea and land.
Banner and Pennant:
Yet louder, higher, stronger, bard! yet farther, wider cleave84!
No longer let our children deem us riches and peace alone,
We may be terror and carnage, and are so now,
Not now are we any one of these spacious and haughty States, (nor
any five, nor ten,)
Nor market nor depot72 we, nor money-bank in the city,
But these and all, and the brown and spreading land, and the mines
below, are ours,
And the shores of the sea are ours, and the rivers great and small,
And the fields they moisten, and the crops and the fruits are ours,
Bays and channels and ships sailing in and out are ours—while we over all,
Over the area spread below, the three or four millions of square
miles, the capitals,
The forty millions of people,—O bard! in life and death supreme85,
We, even we, henceforth flaunt86 out masterful, high up above,
Not for the present alone, for a thousand years chanting through you,
This song to the soul of one poor little child.
Child:
O my father I like not the houses,
They will never to me be any thing, nor do I like money,
But to mount up there I would like, O father dear, that banner I like,
That pennant I would be and must be.
Father:
Child of mine you fill me with anguish87,
To be that pennant would be too fearful,
Little you know what it is this day, and after this day, forever,
It is to gain nothing, but risk and defy every thing,
Forward to stand in front of wars—and O, such wars!—what have you
to do with them?
With passions of demons88, slaughter89, premature90 death?
Banner:
Demons and death then I sing,
Put in all, aye all will I, sword-shaped pennant for war,
And a pleasure new and ecstatic, and the prattled91 yearning92 of children,
Blent with the sounds of the peaceful land and the liquid wash of the sea,
And the black ships fighting on the sea envelop'd in smoke,
And the icy cool of the far, far north, with rustling93 cedars94 and pines,
And the whirr of drums and the sound of soldiers marching, and the
hot sun shining south,
And the beach-waves combing over the beach on my Eastern shore,
and my Western shore the same,
And all between those shores, and my ever running Mississippi with
bends and chutes,
And my Illinois fields, and my Kansas fields, and my fields of Missouri,
The Continent, devoting the whole identity without reserving an atom,
Pour in! whelm that which asks, which sings, with all and the yield of all,
Fusing and holding, claiming, devouring95 the whole,
No more with tender lip, nor musical labial96 sound,
But out of the night emerging for good, our voice persuasive97 no more,
Croaking98 like crows here in the wind.
Poet:
My limbs, my veins99 dilate100, my theme is clear at last,
Banner so broad advancing out of the night, I sing you haughty and resolute101,
I burst through where I waited long, too long, deafen'd and blinded,
My hearing and tongue are come to me, (a little child taught me,)
I hear from above O pennant of war your ironical102 call and demand,
Insensate! insensate! (yet I at any rate chant you,) O banner!
Not houses of peace indeed are you, nor any nor all their
prosperity, (if need be, you shall again have every one of those
houses to destroy them,
You thought not to destroy those valuable houses, standing103 fast,
full of comfort, built with money,
May they stand fast, then? not an hour except you above them and all
stand fast;)
O banner, not money so precious are you, not farm produce you, nor
the material good nutriment,
Nor excellent stores, nor landed on wharves from the ships,
Not the superb ships with sail-power or steam-power, fetching and
carrying cargoes104,
Nor machinery105, vehicles, trade, nor revenues—but you as henceforth
I see you,
Running up out of the night, bringing your cluster of stars,
(ever-enlarging stars,)
Divider of daybreak you, cutting the air, touch'd by the sun,
measuring the sky,
(Passionately seen and yearn'd for by one poor little child,
While others remain busy or smartly talking, forever teaching
thrift107, thrift;)
O you up there! O pennant! where you undulate like a snake hissing
so curious,
Out of reach, an idea only, yet furiously fought for, risking bloody108
death, loved by me,
So loved—O you banner leading the day with stars brought from the night!
Valueless, object of eyes, over all and demanding all—(absolute
owner of all)—O banner and pennant!
I too leave the rest—great as it is, it is nothing—houses, machines
are nothing—I see them not,
I see but you, O warlike pennant! O banner so broad, with stripes,
sing you only,
Flapping up there in the wind.
Rise O Days from Your Fathomless109 Deeps
1
Rise O days from your fathomless deeps, till you loftier, fiercer sweep,
Long for my soul hungering gymnastic I devour'd what the earth gave me,
Long I roam'd amid the woods of the north, long I watch'd Niagara pouring,
I travel'd the prairies over and slept on their breast, I cross'd
the Nevadas, I cross'd the plateaus,
I ascended110 the towering rocks along the Pacific, I sail'd out to sea,
I sail'd through the storm, I was refresh'd by the storm,
I watch'd with joy the threatening maws of the waves,
I mark'd the white combs where they career'd so high, curling over,
I heard the wind piping, I saw the black clouds,
Saw from below what arose and mounted, (O superb! O wild as my
heart, and powerful!)
Heard the continuous thunder as it bellow'd after the lightning,
Noted111 the slender and jagged threads of lightning as sudden and
fast amid the din3 they chased each other across the sky;
These, and such as these, I, elate, saw—saw with wonder, yet pensive
and masterful,
All the menacing might of the globe uprisen around me,
Yet there with my soul I fed, I fed content, supercilious112.
2
'Twas well, O soul—'twas a good preparation you gave me,
Now we advance our latent and ampler hunger to fill,
Now we go forth to receive what the earth and the sea never gave us,
Not through the mighty113 woods we go, but through the mightier114 cities,
Something for us is pouring now more than Niagara pouring,
Torrents115 of men, (sources and rills of the Northwest are you indeed
inexhaustible?)
What, to pavements and homesteads here, what were those storms of
the mountains and sea?
What, to passions I witness around me to-day? was the sea risen?
Was the wind piping the pipe of death under the black clouds?
Lo! from deeps more unfathomable, something more deadly and savage116,
Manhattan rising, advancing with menacing front—Cincinnati, Chicago,
unchain'd;
What was that swell117 I saw on the ocean? behold what comes here,
How it climbs with daring feet and hands—how it dashes!
How the true thunder bellows118 after the lightning—how bright the
flashes of lightning!
How Democracy with desperate vengeful port strides on, shown
through the dark by those flashes of lightning!
(Yet a mournful wall and low sob119 I fancied I heard through the dark,
In a lull120 of the deafening121 confusion.)
3
Thunder on! stride on, Democracy! strike with vengeful stroke!
And do you rise higher than ever yet O days, O cities!
Crash heavier, heavier yet O storms! you have done me good,
My soul prepared in the mountains absorbs your immortal123 strong nutriment,
Long had I walk'd my cities, my country roads through farms, only
half satisfied,
One doubt nauseous undulating like a snake, crawl'd on the ground before me,
Continually preceding my steps, turning upon me oft, ironically hissing low;
The cities I loved so well I abandon'd and left, I sped to the
certainties suitable to me,
Hungering, hungering, hungering, for primal124 energies and Nature's
dauntlessness,
I refresh'd myself with it only, I could relish125 it only,
I waited the bursting forth of the pent fire—on the water and air
waited long;
But now I no longer wait, I am fully17 satisfied, I am glutted126,
I have witness'd the true lightning, I have witness'd my cities electric,
I have lived to behold man burst forth and warlike America rise,
Hence I will seek no more the food of the northern solitary127 wilds,
No more the mountains roam or sail the stormy sea.
Virginia—The West
The noble sire fallen on evil days,
I saw with hand uplifted, menacing, brandishing128,
(Memories of old in abeyance129, love and faith in abeyance,)
The insane knife toward the Mother of All.
The noble son on sinewy feet advancing,
I saw, out of the land of prairies, land of Ohio's waters and of Indiana,
To the rescue the stalwart giant hurry his plenteous offspring,
Drest in blue, bearing their trusty rifles on their shoulders.
Then the Mother of All with calm voice speaking,
As to you Rebellious131, (I seemed to hear her say,) why strive against
me, and why seek my life?
When you yourself forever provide to defend me?
For you provided me Washington—and now these also.
City of Ships
City of ships!
(O the black ships! O the fierce ships!
O the beautiful sharp-bow'd steam-ships and sail-ships!)
City of the world! (for all races are here,
All the lands of the earth make contributions here;)
City of the sea! city of hurried and glittering tides!
City whose gleeful tides continually rush or recede132, whirling in and
out with eddies133 and foam!
City of wharves and stores—city of tall facades134 of marble and iron!
Proud and passionate106 city—mettlesome, mad, extravagant135 city!
Spring up O city—not for peace alone, but be indeed yourself, warlike!
Fear not—submit to no models but your own O city!
Behold me—incarnate me as I have incarnated136 you!
I have rejected nothing you offer'd me—whom you adopted I have adopted,
Good or bad I never question you—I love all—I do not condemn137 any thing,
I chant and celebrate all that is yours—yet peace no more,
In peace I chanted peace, but now the drum of war is mine,
War, red war is my song through your streets, O city!
The Centenarian's Story
[Volunteer of 1861-2, at Washington Park, Brooklyn, assisting
the Centenarian.]
Give me your hand old Revolutionary,
The hill-top is nigh, but a few steps, (make room gentlemen,)
Up the path you have follow'd me well, spite of your hundred and
extra years,
You can walk old man, though your eyes are almost done,
Your faculties138 serve you, and presently I must have them serve me.
Rest, while I tell what the crowd around us means,
On the plain below recruits are drilling and exercising,
There is the camp, one regiment21 departs to-morrow,
Do you hear the officers giving their orders?
Do you hear the clank of the muskets139?
Why what comes over you now old man?
Why do you tremble and clutch my hand so convulsively?
The troops are but drilling, they are yet surrounded with smiles,
Around them at hand the well-drest friends and the women,
While splendid and warm the afternoon sun shines down,
Green the midsummer verdure and fresh blows the dallying140 breeze,
O'er proud and peaceful cities and arm of the sea between.
But drill and parade are over, they march back to quarters,
Only hear that approval of hands! hear what a clapping!
As wending the crowds now part and disperse—but we old man,
Not for nothing have I brought you hither—we must remain,
You to speak in your turn, and I to listen and tell.
[The Centenarian]
When I clutch'd your hand it was not with terror,
But suddenly pouring about me here on every side,
And below there where the boys were drilling, and up the slopes they ran,
And where tents are pitch'd, and wherever you see south and south-
east and south-west,
Over hills, across lowlands, and in the skirts of woods,
And along the shores, in mire141 (now fill'd over) came again and
suddenly raged,
As eighty-five years agone no mere parade receiv'd with applause of friends,
But a battle which I took part in myself—aye, long ago as it is, I
took part in it,
Walking then this hilltop, this same ground.
Aye, this is the ground,
My blind eyes even as I speak behold it re-peopled from graves,
The years recede, pavements and stately houses disappear,
Rude forts appear again, the old hoop'd guns are mounted,
I see the lines of rais'd earth stretching from river to bay,
I mark the vista142 of waters, I mark the uplands and slopes;
Here we lay encamp'd, it was this time in summer also.
As I talk I remember all, I remember the Declaration,
It was read here, the whole army paraded, it was read to us here,
By his staff surrounded the General stood in the middle, he held up
his unsheath'd sword,
It glitter'd in the sun in full sight of the army.
Twas a bold act then—the English war-ships had just arrived,
We could watch down the lower bay where they lay at anchor,
And the transports swarming143 with soldiers.
A few days more and they landed, and then the battle.
Twenty thousand were brought against us,
A veteran force furnish'd with good artillery.
I tell not now the whole of the battle,
But one brigade early in the forenoon order'd forward to engage the
red-coats,
Of that brigade I tell, and how steadily144 it march'd,
And how long and well it stood confronting death.
Who do you think that was marching steadily sternly confronting death?
It was the brigade of the youngest men, two thousand strong,
Rais'd in Virginia and Maryland, and most of them known personally
to the General.
Jauntily145 forward they went with quick step toward Gowanus' waters,
Till of a sudden unlook'd for by defiles146 through the woods, gain'd at night,
The British advancing, rounding in from the east, fiercely playing
their guns,
That brigade of the youngest was cut off and at the enemy's mercy.
The General watch'd them from this hill,
They made repeated desperate attempts to burst their environment,
Then drew close together, very compact, their flag flying in the middle,
But O from the hills how the cannon were thinning and thinning them!
It sickens me yet, that slaughter!
I saw the moisture gather in drops on the face of the General.
I saw how he wrung147 his hands in anguish.
Meanwhile the British manoeuvr'd to draw us out for a pitch'd battle,
But we dared not trust the chances of a pitch'd battle.
We fought the fight in detachments,
Sallying forth we fought at several points, but in each the luck was
against us,
Our foe148 advancing, steadily getting the best of it, push'd us back
to the works on this hill,
Till we turn'd menacing here, and then he left us.
That was the going out of the brigade of the youngest men, two thousand
strong,
Few return'd, nearly all remain in Brooklyn.
That and here my General's first battle,
No women looking on nor sunshine to bask149 in, it did not conclude
with applause,
Nobody clapp'd hands here then.
But in darkness in mist on the ground under a chill rain,
Wearied that night we lay foil'd and sullen150,
While scornfully laugh'd many an arrogant151 lord off against us encamp'd,
Quite within hearing, feasting, clinking wineglasses together over
their victory.
So dull and damp and another day,
But the night of that, mist lifting, rain ceasing,
Silent as a ghost while they thought they were sure of him, my
General retreated.
I saw him at the river-side,
Down by the ferry lit by torches, hastening the embarcation;
My General waited till the soldiers and wounded were all pass'd over,
And then, (it was just ere sunrise,) these eyes rested on him for
the last time.
Every one else seem'd fill'd with gloom,
Many no doubt thought of capitulation.
But when my General pass'd me,
As he stood in his boat and look'd toward the coming sun,
I saw something different from capitulation.
[Terminus]
Enough, the Centenarian's story ends,
The two, the past and present, have interchanged,
I myself as connecter, as chansonnier of a great future, am now speaking.
And is this the ground Washington trod?
And these waters I listlessly daily cross, are these the waters he cross'd,
As resolute in defeat as other generals in their proudest triumphs?
I must copy the story, and send it eastward152 and westward153,
I must preserve that look as it beam'd on you rivers of Brooklyn.
See—as the annual round returns the phantoms154 return,
It is the 27th of August and the British have landed,
The battle begins and goes against us, behold through the smoke
Washington's face,
The brigade of Virginia and Maryland have march'd forth to intercept156
the enemy,
They are cut off, murderous artillery from the hills plays upon them,
Rank after rank falls, while over them silently droops157 the flag,
Baptized that day in many a young man's bloody wounds.
In death, defeat, and sisters', mothers' tears.
Ah, hills and slopes of Brooklyn! I perceive you are more valuable
than your owners supposed;
In the midst of you stands an encampment very old,
Stands forever the camp of that dead brigade.
Cavalry158 Crossing a Ford159
A line in long array where they wind betwixt green islands,
They take a serpentine160 course, their arms flash in the sun—hark to
the musical clank,
Behold the silvery river, in it the splashing horses loitering stop
to drink,
Behold the brown-faced men, each group, each person a picture, the
negligent161 rest on the saddles,
Some emerge on the opposite bank, others are just entering the ford—while,
Scarlet162 and blue and snowy white,
The guidon flags flutter gayly in the wind.
Bivouac on a Mountain Side
I see before me now a traveling army halting,
Below a fertile valley spread, with barns and the orchards163 of summer,
Behind, the terraced sides of a mountain, abrupt12, in places rising high,
Broken, with rocks, with clinging cedars, with tall shapes dingily165 seen,
The numerous camp-fires scatter'd near and far, some away up on the
mountain,
The shadowy forms of men and horses, looming166, large-sized, flickering167,
And over all the sky—the sky! far, far out of reach, studded,
breaking out, the eternal stars.
An Army Corps168 on the March
With its cloud of skirmishers in advance,
With now the sound of a single shot snapping like a whip, and now an
irregular volley,
The swarming ranks press on and on, the dense169 brigades press on,
Glittering dimly, toiling170 under the sun—the dust-cover'd men,
In columns rise and fall to the undulations of the ground,
With artillery interspers'd—the wheels rumble, the horses sweat,
As the army corps advances.
By the Bivouac's Fitful Flame
By the bivouac's fitful flame,
A procession winding171 around me, solemn and sweet and slow—but
first I note,
The tents of the sleeping army, the fields' and woods' dim outline,
The darkness lit by spots of kindled172 fire, the silence,
Like a phantom155 far or near an occasional figure moving,
The shrubs173 and trees, (as I lift my eyes they seem to be stealthily
watching me,)
While wind in procession thoughts, O tender and wondrous174 thoughts,
Of life and death, of home and the past and loved, and of those that
are far away;
A solemn and slow procession there as I sit on the ground,
By the bivouac's fitful flame.
Come Up from the Fields Father
Come up from the fields father, here's a letter from our Pete,
And come to the front door mother, here's a letter from thy dear son.
Lo, 'tis autumn,
Lo, where the trees, deeper green, yellower and redder,
Cool and sweeten Ohio's villages with leaves fluttering in the
moderate wind,
Where apples ripe in the orchards hang and grapes on the trellis'd vines,
(Smell you the smell of the grapes on the vines?
Smell you the buckwheat where the bees were lately buzzing?)
Above all, lo, the sky so calm, so transparent175 after the rain, and
with wondrous clouds,
Below too, all calm, all vital and beautiful, and the farm prospers176 well.
Down in the fields all prospers well,
But now from the fields come father, come at the daughter's call.
And come to the entry mother, to the front door come right away.
Fast as she can she hurries, something ominous, her steps trembling,
She does not tarry to smooth her hair nor adjust her cap.
Open the envelope quickly,
O this is not our son's writing, yet his name is sign'd,
O a strange hand writes for our dear son, O stricken mother's soul!
All swims before her eyes, flashes with black, she catches the main
words only,
Sentences broken, gunshot wound in the breast, cavalry skirmish,
taken to hospital,
At present low, but will soon be better.
Ah now the single figure to me,
Amid all teeming and wealthy Ohio with all its cities and farms,
Sickly white in the face and dull in the head, very faint,
By the jamb of a door leans.
Grieve not so, dear mother, (the just-grown daughter speaks through
her sobs177,
The little sisters huddle178 around speechless and dismay'd,)
See, dearest mother, the letter says Pete will soon be better.
Alas179 poor boy, he will never be better, (nor may-be needs to be
better, that brave and simple soul,)
While they stand at home at the door he is dead already,
The only son is dead.
But the mother needs to be better,
She with thin form presently drest in black,
By day her meals untouch'd, then at night fitfully sleeping, often waking,
In the midnight waking, weeping, longing180 with one deep longing,
O that she might withdraw unnoticed, silent from life escape and withdraw,
To follow, to seek, to be with her dear dead son.
Vigil Strange I Kept on the Field One Night
Vigil strange I kept on the field one night;
When you my son and my comrade dropt at my side that day,
One look I but gave which your dear eyes return'd with a look I
shall never forget,
One touch of your hand to mine O boy, reach'd up as you lay on the ground,
Then onward181 I sped in the battle, the even-contested battle,
Till late in the night reliev'd to the place at last again I made my way,
Found you in death so cold dear comrade, found your body son of
responding kisses, (never again on earth responding,)
Bared your face in the starlight, curious the scene, cool blew the
moderate night-wind,
Long there and then in vigil I stood, dimly around me the
battlefield spreading,
Vigil wondrous and vigil sweet there in the fragrant182 silent night,
But not a tear fell, not even a long-drawn sigh, long, long I gazed,
Then on the earth partially183 reclining sat by your side leaning my
chin in my hands,
Passing sweet hours, immortal and mystic hours with you dearest
comrade—not a tear, not a word,
Vigil of silence, love and death, vigil for you my son and my soldier,
As onward silently stars aloft, eastward new ones upward stole,
Vigil final for you brave boy, (I could not save you, swift was your death,
I faithfully loved you and cared for you living, I think we shall
surely meet again,)
Till at latest lingering of the night, indeed just as the dawn appear'd,
My comrade I wrapt in his blanket, envelop'd well his form,
Folded the blanket well, tucking it carefully over head and
carefully under feet,
And there and then and bathed by the rising sun, my son in his
grave, in his rude-dug grave I deposited,
Ending my vigil strange with that, vigil of night and battle-field dim,
Vigil for boy of responding kisses, (never again on earth responding,)
Vigil for comrade swiftly slain185, vigil I never forget, how as day
brighten'd,
I rose from the chill ground and folded my soldier well in his blanket,
And buried him where he fell.
A March in the Ranks Hard-Prest, and the Road Unknown
A march in the ranks hard-prest, and the road unknown,
A route through a heavy wood with muffled186 steps in the darkness,
Our army foil'd with loss severe, and the sullen remnant retreating,
Till after midnight glimmer187 upon us the lights of a dim-lighted building,
We come to an open space in the woods, and halt by the dim-lighted building,
'Tis a large old church at the crossing roads, now an impromptu188 hospital,
Entering but for a minute I see a sight beyond all the pictures and
poems ever made,
Shadows of deepest, deepest black, just lit by moving candles and lamps,
And by one great pitchy torch stationary189 with wild red flame and
clouds of smoke,
By these, crowds, groups of forms vaguely190 I see on the floor, some
in the pews laid down,
At my feet more distinctly a soldier, a mere lad, in danger of
bleeding to death, (he is shot in the abdomen191,)
I stanch192 the blood temporarily, (the youngster's face is white as a lily,)
Then before I depart I sweep my eyes o'er the scene fain to absorb it all,
Faces, varieties, postures193 beyond description, most in obscurity,
some of them dead,
Surgeons operating, attendants holding lights, the smell of ether,
odor of blood,
The crowd, O the crowd of the bloody forms, the yard outside also fill'd,
Some on the bare ground, some on planks194 or stretchers, some in the
death-spasm sweating,
An occasional scream or cry, the doctor's shouted orders or calls,
The glisten195 of the little steel instruments catching196 the glint of
the torches,
These I resume as I chant, I see again the forms, I smell the odor,
Then hear outside the orders given, Fall in, my men, fall in;
But first I bend to the dying lad, his eyes open, a half-smile gives he me,
Then the eyes close, calmly close, and I speed forth to the darkness,
Resuming, marching, ever in darkness marching, on in the ranks,
The unknown road still marching.
A Sight in Camp in the Daybreak Gray and Dim
A sight in camp in the daybreak gray and dim,
As from my tent I emerge so early sleepless,
As slow I walk in the cool fresh air the path near by the hospital tent,
Three forms I see on stretchers lying, brought out there untended lying,
Over each the blanket spread, ample brownish woolen197 blanket,
Gray and heavy blanket, folding, covering all.
Curious I halt and silent stand,
Then with light fingers I from the face of the nearest the first
just lift the blanket;
Who are you elderly man so gaunt and grim, with well-gray'd hair,
and flesh all sunken about the eyes?
Who are you my dear comrade?
Then to the second I step—and who are you my child and darling?
Who are you sweet boy with cheeks yet blooming?
Then to the third—a face nor child nor old, very calm, as of
beautiful yellow-white ivory;
Young man I think I know you—I think this face is the face of the
Christ himself,
Dead and divine and brother of all, and here again he lies.
As Toilsome I Wander'd Virginia's Woods
As toilsome I wander'd Virginia's woods,
To the music of rustling leaves kick'd by my feet, (for 'twas autumn,)
I mark'd at the foot of a tree the grave of a soldier;
Mortally wounded he and buried on the retreat, (easily all could
understand,)
The halt of a mid-day hour, when up! no time to lose—yet this sign left,
On a tablet scrawl'd and nail'd on the tree by the grave,
Bold, cautious, true, and my loving comrade.
Long, long I muse199, then on my way go wandering,
Many a changeful season to follow, and many a scene of life,
Yet at times through changeful season and scene, abrupt, alone, or
in the crowded street,
Comes before me the unknown soldier's grave, comes the inscription200
rude in Virginia's woods,
Bold, cautious, true, and my loving comrade.
Not the Pilot
Not the pilot has charged himself to bring his ship into port,
though beaten back and many times baffled;
Not the pathfinder penetrating201 inland weary and long,
By deserts parch'd, snows chill'd, rivers wet, perseveres202 till he
reaches his destination,
More than I have charged myself, heeded203 or unheeded, to compose
march for these States,
For a battle-call, rousing to arms if need be, years, centuries hence.
Year That Trembled and Reel'd Beneath Me
Year that trembled and reel'd beneath me!
Your summer wind was warm enough, yet the air I breathed froze me,
A thick gloom fell through the sunshine and darken'd me,
Must I change my triumphant205 songs? said I to myself,
Must I indeed learn to chant the cold dirges207 of the baffled?
And sullen hymns208 of defeat?
The Wound-Dresser
1
An old man bending I come among new faces,
Years looking backward resuming in answer to children,
Come tell us old man, as from young men and maidens209 that love me,
(Arous'd and angry, I'd thought to beat the alarum, and urge relentless210 war,
But soon my fingers fail'd me, my face droop'd and I resign'd myself,
To sit by the wounded and soothe211 them, or silently watch the dead;)
Years hence of these scenes, of these furious passions, these chances,
Of unsurpass'd heroes, (was one side so brave? the other was equally brave;)
Now be witness again, paint the mightiest212 armies of earth,
Of those armies so rapid so wondrous what saw you to tell us?
What stays with you latest and deepest? of curious panics,
Of hard-fought engagements or sieges tremendous what deepest remains213?
2
O maidens and young men I love and that love me,
What you ask of my days those the strangest and sudden your talking recalls,
Soldier alert I arrive after a long march cover'd with sweat and dust,
In the nick of time I come, plunge214 in the fight, loudly shout in the
rush of successful charge,
Enter the captur'd works—yet lo, like a swift-running river they fade,
Pass and are gone they fade—I dwell not on soldiers' perils215 or
soldiers' joys,
(Both I remember well—many the hardships, few the joys, yet I was content.)
But in silence, in dreams' projections216,
While the world of gain and appearance and mirth goes on,
So soon what is over forgotten, and waves wash the imprints217 off the sand,
With hinged knees returning I enter the doors, (while for you up there,
Whoever you are, follow without noise and be of strong heart.)
Bearing the bandages, water and sponge,
Straight and swift to my wounded I go,
Where they lie on the ground after the battle brought in,
Where their priceless blood reddens the grass the ground,
Or to the rows of the hospital tent, or under the roof'd hospital,
To the long rows of cots up and down each side I return,
To each and all one after another I draw near, not one do I miss,
An attendant follows holding a tray, he carries a refuse pail,
Soon to be fill'd with clotted218 rags and blood, emptied, and fill'd again.
I onward go, I stop,
With hinged knees and steady hand to dress wounds,
I am firm with each, the pangs219 are sharp yet unavoidable,
One turns to me his appealing eyes—poor boy! I never knew you,
Yet I think I could not refuse this moment to die for you, if that
would save you.
3
On, on I go, (open doors of time! open hospital doors!)
The crush'd head I dress, (poor crazed hand tear not the bandage away,)
The neck of the cavalry-man with the bullet through and through examine,
Hard the breathing rattles220, quite glazed221 already the eye, yet life
struggles hard,
(Come sweet death! be persuaded O beautiful death!
In mercy come quickly.)
From the stump222 of the arm, the amputated hand,
I undo223 the clotted lint, remove the slough224, wash off the matter and blood,
Back on his pillow the soldier bends with curv'd neck and side falling head,
His eyes are closed, his face is pale, he dares not look on the
bloody stump,
And has not yet look'd on it.
I dress a wound in the side, deep, deep,
But a day or two more, for see the frame all wasted and sinking,
And the yellow-blue countenance225 see.
I dress the perforated shoulder, the foot with the bullet-wound,
Cleanse226 the one with a gnawing227 and putrid228 gangrene, so sickening,
so offensive,
While the attendant stands behind aside me holding the tray and pail.
I am faithful, I do not give out,
The fractur'd thigh229, the knee, the wound in the abdomen,
These and more I dress with impassive hand, (yet deep in my breast
a fire, a burning flame.)
4
Thus in silence in dreams' projections,
Returning, resuming, I thread my way through the hospitals,
The hurt and wounded I pacify230 with soothing231 hand,
I sit by the restless all the dark night, some are so young,
Some suffer so much, I recall the experience sweet and sad,
(Many a soldier's loving arms about this neck have cross'd and rested,
Many a soldier's kiss dwells on these bearded lips.)
Long, Too Long America
Long, too long America,
Traveling roads all even and peaceful you learn'd from joys and
prosperity only,
But now, ah now, to learn from crises of anguish, advancing,
grappling with direst fate and recoiling232 not,
And now to conceive and show to the world what your children
en-masse really are,
(For who except myself has yet conceiv'd what your children en-masse
really are?)
Give Me the Splendid Silent Sun
1
Give me the splendid silent sun with all his beams full-dazzling,
Give me autumnal fruit ripe and red from the orchard164,
Give me a field where the unmow'd grass grows,
Give me an arbor82, give me the trellis'd grape,
Give me fresh corn and wheat, give me serene-moving animals teaching
content,
Give me nights perfectly233 quiet as on high plateaus west of the
Mississippi, and I looking up at the stars,
Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers where I can
walk undisturb'd,
Give me for marriage a sweet-breath'd woman of whom I should never tire,
Give me a perfect child, give me away aside from the noise of the
world a rural domestic life,
Give me to warble spontaneous songs recluse234 by myself, for my own ears only,
Give me solitude235, give me Nature, give me again O Nature your primal
sanities!
These demanding to have them, (tired with ceaseless excitement, and
rack'd by the war-strife,)
These to procure236 incessantly237 asking, rising in cries from my heart,
While yet incessantly asking still I adhere to my city,
Day upon day and year upon year O city, walking your streets,
Where you hold me enchain'd a certain time refusing to give me up,
Yet giving to make me glutted, enrich'd of soul, you give me forever faces;
(O I see what I sought to escape, confronting, reversing my cries,
see my own soul trampling239 down what it ask'd for.)
2
Keep your splendid silent sun,
Keep your woods O Nature, and the quiet places by the woods,
Keep your fields of clover and timothy, and your corn-fields and orchards,
Keep the blossoming buckwheat fields where the Ninth-month bees hum;
Give me faces and streets—give me these phantoms incessant238 and
endless along the trottoirs!
Give me interminable eyes—give me women—give me comrades and
lovers by the thousand!
Let me see new ones every day—let me hold new ones by the hand every day!
Give me such shows—give me the streets of Manhattan!
Give me Broadway, with the soldiers marching—give me the sound of
the trumpets and drums!
(The soldiers in companies or regiments—some starting away, flush'd
and reckless,
Some, their time up, returning with thinn'd ranks, young, yet very
old, worn, marching, noticing nothing;)
Give me the shores and wharves heavy-fringed with black ships!
O such for me! O an intense life, full to repletion240 and varied241!
The life of the theatre, bar-room, huge hotel, for me!
The saloon of the steamer! the crowded excursion for me! the
torchlight procession!
The dense brigade bound for the war, with high piled military wagons242
following;
People, endless, streaming, with strong voices, passions, pageants243,
Manhattan streets with their powerful throbs244, with beating drums as now,
The endless and noisy chorus, the rustle246 and clank of muskets, (even
the sight of the wounded,)
Manhattan crowds, with their turbulent musical chorus!
Manhattan faces and eyes forever for me.
Dirge206 for Two Veterans
The last sunbeam
Lightly falls from the finish'd Sabbath,
On the pavement here, and there beyond it is looking,
Down a new-made double grave.
Lo, the moon ascending247,
Up from the east the silvery round moon,
Beautiful over the house-tops, ghastly, phantom moon,
Immense and silent moon.
I see a sad procession,
And I hear the sound of coming full-key'd bugles,
All the channels of the city streets they're flooding,
As with voices and with tears.
I hear the great drums pounding,
And the small drums steady whirring,
And every blow of the great convulsive drums,
Strikes me through and through.
For the son is brought with the father,
(In the foremost ranks of the fierce assault they fell,
Two veterans son and father dropt together,
And the double grave awaits them.)
Now nearer blow the bugles,
And the drums strike more convulsive,
And the daylight o'er the pavement quite has faded,
And the strong dead-march enwraps me.
In the eastern sky up-buoying,
The sorrowful vast phantom moves illumin'd,
('Tis some mother's large transparent face,
In heaven brighter growing.)
O strong dead-march you please me!
O moon immense with your silvery face you soothe me!
O my soldiers twain! O my veterans passing to burial!
What I have I also give you.
The moon gives you light,
And the bugles and the drums give you music,
And my heart, O my soldiers, my veterans,
My heart gives you love.
Over the Carnage Rose Prophetic a Voice
Over the carnage rose prophetic a voice,
Be not dishearten'd, affection shall solve the problems of freedom yet,
Those who love each other shall become invincible248,
They shall yet make Columbia victorious249.
Sons of the Mother of All, you shall yet be victorious,
You shall yet laugh to scorn the attacks of all the remainder of the earth.
No danger shall balk250 Columbia's lovers,
If need be a thousand shall sternly immolate251 themselves for one.
One from Massachusetts shall be a Missourian's comrade,
From Maine and from hot Carolina, and another an Oregonese, shall
be friends triune,
More precious to each other than all the riches of the earth.
To Michigan, Florida perfumes shall tenderly come,
Not the perfumes of flowers, but sweeter, and wafted252 beyond death.
It shall be customary in the houses and streets to see manly affection,
The most dauntless and rude shall touch face to face lightly,
The dependence253 of Liberty shall be lovers,
The continuance of Equality shall be comrades.
These shall tie you and band you stronger than hoops254 of iron,
I, ecstatic, O partners! O lands! with the love of lovers tie you.
(Were you looking to be held together by lawyers?
Or by an agreement on a paper? or by arms?
Nay255, nor the world, nor any living thing, will so cohere256.)
I Saw Old General at Bay
I saw old General at bay,
(Old as he was, his gray eyes yet shone out in battle like stars,)
His small force was now completely hemm'd in, in his works,
He call'd for volunteers to run the enemy's lines, a desperate emergency,
I saw a hundred and more step forth from the ranks, but two or three
were selected,
I saw them receive their orders aside, they listen'd with care, the
adjutant was very grave,
I saw them depart with cheerfulness, freely risking their lives.
The Artilleryman's Vision
While my wife at my side lies slumbering257, and the wars are over long,
And my head on the pillow rests at home, and the vacant midnight passes,
And through the stillness, through the dark, I hear, just hear, the
breath of my infant,
There in the room as I wake from sleep this vision presses upon me;
The engagement opens there and then in fantasy unreal,
The skirmishers begin, they crawl cautiously ahead, I hear the
irregular snap! snap!
I hear the sounds of the different missiles, the short t-h-t! t-h-t!
of the rifle-balls,
I see the shells exploding leaving small white clouds, I hear the
great shells shrieking258 as they pass,
The grape like the hum and whirr of wind through the trees,
(tumultuous now the contest rages,)
All the scenes at the batteries rise in detail before me again,
The crashing and smoking, the pride of the men in their pieces,
The chief-gunner ranges and sights his piece and selects a fuse of
the right time,
After firing I see him lean aside and look eagerly off to note the effect;
Elsewhere I hear the cry of a regiment charging, (the young colonel
leads himself this time with brandish'd sword,)
I see the gaps cut by the enemy's volleys, (quickly fill'd up, no delay,)
I breathe the suffocating259 smoke, then the flat clouds hover74 low
concealing260 all;
Now a strange lull for a few seconds, not a shot fired on either side,
Then resumed the chaos261 louder than ever, with eager calls and
orders of officers,
While from some distant part of the field the wind wafts262 to my ears
a shout of applause, (some special success,)
And ever the sound of the cannon far or near, (rousing even in
dreams a devilish exultation263 and all the old mad joy in the
depths of my soul,)
And ever the hastening of infantry264 shifting positions, batteries,
cavalry, moving hither and thither265,
(The falling, dying, I heed204 not, the wounded dripping and red
heed not, some to the rear are hobbling,)
Grime, heat, rush, aide-de-camps galloping266 by or on a full run,
With the patter of small arms, the warning s-s-t of the rifles,
(these in my vision I hear or see,)
And bombs bursting in air, and at night the vari-color'd rockets.
Ethiopia Saluting267 the Colors
Who are you dusky woman, so ancient hardly human,
With your woolly-white and turban'd head, and bare bony feet?
Why rising by the roadside here, do you the colors greet?
('Tis while our army lines Carolina's sands and pines,
Forth from thy hovel door thou Ethiopia com'st to me,
As under doughty268 Sherman I march toward the sea.)
Me master years a hundred since from my parents sunder'd,
A little child, they caught me as the savage beast is caught,
Then hither me across the sea the cruel slaver brought.
No further does she say, but lingering all the day,
Her high-borne turban'd head she wags, and rolls her darkling eye,
And courtesies to the regiments, the guidons moving by.
What is it fateful woman, so blear, hardly human?
Why wag your head with turban bound, yellow, red and green?
Are the things so strange and marvelous you see or have seen?
Not Youth Pertains269 to Me
Not youth pertains to me,
Nor delicatesse, I cannot beguile270 the time with talk,
Awkward in the parlor271, neither a dancer nor elegant,
In the learn'd coterie272 sitting constrain'd and still, for learning
inures273 not to me,
Beauty, knowledge, inure274 not to me—yet there are two or three things
inure to me,
I have nourish'd the wounded and sooth'd many a dying soldier,
And at intervals275 waiting or in the midst of camp,
Composed these songs.
Race of Veterans
Race of veterans—race of victors!
Race of the soil, ready for conflict—race of the conquering march!
(No more credulity's race, abiding-temper'd race,)
Race henceforth owning no law but the law of itself,
Race of passion and the storm.
World Take Good Notice
World take good notice, silver stars fading,
Milky276 hue277 ript, wet of white detaching,
Coals thirty-eight, baleful and burning,
Scarlet, significant, hands off warning,
Now and henceforth flaunt from these shores.
O Tan-Faced Prairie-Boy
O tan-faced prairie-boy,
Before you came to camp came many a welcome gift,
Praises and presents came and nourishing food, till at last among
the recruits,
You came, taciturn, with nothing to give—we but look'd on each other,
When lo! more than all the gifts of the world you gave me.
Look Down Fair Moon
Look down fair moon and bathe this scene,
Pour softly down night's nimbus floods on faces ghastly, swollen278, purple,
On the dead on their backs with arms toss'd wide,
Pour down your unstinted nimbus sacred moon.
Reconciliation279
Word over all, beautiful as the sky,
Beautiful that war and all its deeds of carnage must in time be
utterly280 lost,
That the hands of the sisters Death and Night incessantly softly
wash again, and ever again, this solid world;
For my enemy is dead, a man divine as myself is dead,
I look where he lies white-faced and still in the coffin281—I draw near,
Bend down and touch lightly with my lips the white face in the coffin.
How Solemn As One by One [Washington City, 1865]
How solemn as one by one,
As the ranks returning worn and sweaty, as the men file by where stand,
As the faces the masks appear, as I glance at the faces studying the masks,
(As I glance upward out of this page studying you, dear friend,
whoever you are,)
How solemn the thought of my whispering soul to each in the ranks,
and to you,
I see behind each mask that wonder a kindred soul,
O the bullet could never kill what you really are, dear friend,
Nor the bayonet stab what you really are;
The soul! yourself I see, great as any, good as the best,
Waiting secure and content, which the bullet could never kill,
Nor the bayonet stab O friend.
As I Lay with My Head in Your Lap Camerado
As I lay with my head in your lap camerado,
The confession282 I made I resume, what I said to you and the open air
I resume,
I know I am restless and make others so,
I know my words are weapons full of danger, full of death,
For I confront peace, security, and all the settled laws, to
unsettle them,
I am more resolute because all have denied me than I could ever have
been had all accepted me,
I heed not and have never heeded either experience, cautions,
majorities, nor ridicule283,
And the threat of what is call'd hell is little or nothing to me,
And the lure284 of what is call'd heaven is little or nothing to me;
Dear camerado! I confess I have urged you onward with me, and still
urge you, without the least idea what is our destination,
Or whether we shall be victorious, or utterly quell'd and defeated.
Delicate Cluster
Delicate cluster! flag of teeming life!
Covering all my lands—all my seashores lining184!
Flag of death! (how I watch'd you through the smoke of battle pressing!
How I heard you flap and rustle, cloth defiant285!)
Flag cerulean—sunny flag, with the orbs122 of night dappled!
Ah my silvery beauty—ah my woolly white and crimson286!
Ah to sing the song of you, my matron mighty!
My sacred one, my mother.
To a Certain Civilian287
Did you ask dulcet288 rhymes from me?
Did you seek the civilian's peaceful and languishing289 rhymes?
Did you find what I sang erewhile so hard to follow?
Why I was not singing erewhile for you to follow, to understand—nor
am I now;
(I have been born of the same as the war was born,
The drum-corps' rattle is ever to me sweet music, I love well the
martial290 dirge,
With slow wail291 and convulsive throb245 leading the officer's funeral;)
What to such as you anyhow such a poet as I? therefore leave my works,
And go lull yourself with what you can understand, and with piano-tunes,
For I lull nobody, and you will never understand me.
Lo, Victress on the Peaks
Lo, Victress on the peaks,
Where thou with mighty brow regarding the world,
(The world O Libertad, that vainly conspired292 against thee,)
Out of its countless beleaguering293 toils198, after thwarting294 them all,
Dominant295, with the dazzling sun around thee,
Flauntest now unharm'd in immortal soundness and bloom—lo, in
these hours supreme,
No poem proud, I chanting bring to thee, nor mastery's rapturous verse,
But a cluster containing night's darkness and blood-dripping wounds,
And psalms296 of the dead.
Spirit Whose Work Is Done [Washington City, 1865]
Spirit whose work is done—spirit of dreadful hours!
Ere departing fade from my eyes your forests of bayonets;
Spirit of gloomiest fears and doubts, (yet onward ever unfaltering
pressing,)
Spirit of many a solemn day and many a savage scene—electric spirit,
That with muttering voice through the war now closed, like a
tireless phantom flitted,
Rousing the land with breath of flame, while you beat and beat the drum,
Now as the sound of the drum, hollow and harsh to the last,
reverberates297 round me,
As your ranks, your immortal ranks, return, return from the battles,
As the muskets of the young men yet lean over their shoulders,
As I look on the bayonets bristling298 over their shoulders,
As those slanted299 bayonets, whole forests of them appearing in the
distance, approach and pass on, returning homeward,
Moving with steady motion, swaying to and fro to the right and left,
Evenly lightly rising and falling while the steps keep time;
Spirit of hours I knew, all hectic300 red one day, but pale as death next day,
Touch my mouth ere you depart, press my lips close,
Leave me your pulses of rage—bequeath them to me—fill me with
currents convulsive,
Let them scorch301 and blister302 out of my chants when you are gone,
Let them identify you to the future in these songs.
Adieu to a Soldier
Adieu O soldier,
You of the rude campaigning, (which we shared,)
The rapid march, the life of the camp,
The hot contention303 of opposing fronts, the long manoeuvre304,
Red battles with their slaughter, the stimulus305, the strong terrific game,
Spell of all brave and manly hearts, the trains of time through you
and like of you all fill'd,
With war and war's expression.
Adieu dear comrade,
Your mission is fulfill'd—but I, more warlike,
Myself and this contentious306 soul of mine,
Still on our own campaigning bound,
Through untried roads with ambushes307 opponents lined,
Through many a sharp defeat and many a crisis, often baffled,
Here marching, ever marching on, a war fight out—aye here,
To fiercer, weightier battles give expression.
Turn O Libertad
Turn O Libertad, for the war is over,
From it and all henceforth expanding, doubting no more, resolute,
sweeping the world,
Turn from lands retrospective recording308 proofs of the past,
From the singers that sing the trailing glories of the past,
From the chants of the feudal309 world, the triumphs of kings, slavery, caste,
Turn to the world, the triumphs reserv'd and to come—give up that
backward world,
Leave to the singers of hitherto, give them the trailing past,
But what remains remains for singers for you—wars to come are for you,
(Lo, how the wars of the past have duly inured310 to you, and the wars
of the present also inure;)
Then turn, and be not alarm'd O Libertad—turn your undying face,
To where the future, greater than all the past,
Is swiftly, surely preparing for you.
To the Leaven'd Soil They Trod
To the leaven'd soil they trod calling I sing for the last,
(Forth from my tent emerging for good, loosing, untying311 the tent-ropes,)
In the freshness the forenoon air, in the far-stretching circuits
and vistas312 again to peace restored,
To the fiery313 fields emanative and the endless vistas beyond, to the
South and the North,
To the leaven'd soil of the general Western world to attest314 my songs,
To the Alleghanian hills and the tireless Mississippi,
To the rocks I calling sing, and all the trees in the woods,
To the plains of the poems of heroes, to the prairies spreading wide,
To the far-off sea and the unseen winds, and the sane130 impalpable air;
And responding they answer all, (but not in words,)
The average earth, the witness of war and peace, acknowledges mutely,
The prairie draws me close, as the father to bosom315 broad the son,
The Northern ice and rain that began me nourish me to the end,
But the hot sun of the South is to fully ripen316 my songs.
点击
收听单词发音
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1
prelude
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| n.序言，前兆，序曲 | |
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lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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pageant
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| n.壮观的游行；露天历史剧 | |
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teeming
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| adj.丰富的v.充满( teem的现在分词 )；到处都是；（指水、雨等）暴降；倾注 | |
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sleepless
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| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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myriads
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| n.无数，极大数量( myriad的名词复数 ) | |
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doorways
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| n.门口，门道( doorway的名词复数 ) | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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14
squads
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| n.（军队中的）班( squad的名词复数 )；（暗杀）小组；体育运动的运动（代表）队；（对付某类犯罪活动的）警察队伍 | |
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15
buckle
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| n.扣子，带扣；v.把...扣住，由于压力而弯曲 | |
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straps
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| n.带子( strap的名词复数 )；挎带；肩带；背带v.用皮带捆扎( strap的第三人称单数 )；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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17
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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18
sentries
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| 哨兵，步兵( sentry的名词复数 ) | |
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19
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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20
regiments
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| （军队的）团( regiment的名词复数 )； 大量的人或物 | |
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21
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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22
embark
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| vi.乘船，着手，从事，上飞机 | |
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23
wharves
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| n.码头，停泊处( wharf的名词复数 ) | |
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24
artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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25
cannons
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| n.加农炮，大炮，火炮( cannon的名词复数 ) | |
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26
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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27
rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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28
lint
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| n.线头；绷带用麻布，皮棉 | |
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29
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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30
manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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31
salutes
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| n.致敬，欢迎，敬礼( salute的名词复数 )v.欢迎，致敬( salute的第三人称单数 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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32
pensive
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| a.沉思的,哀思的,忧沉的 | |
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33
covertly
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| adv.偷偷摸摸地 | |
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34
exulting
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| vi. 欢欣鼓舞，狂喜 | |
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35
sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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36
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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37
sonorous
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| adj.响亮的，回响的；adv.圆润低沉地；感人地；n.感人，堂皇 | |
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38
dwellers
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| n.居民，居住者( dweller的名词复数 ) | |
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39
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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40
sinewy
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| adj.多腱的，强壮有力的 | |
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41
robust
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| adj.强壮的，强健的，粗野的，需要体力的，浓的 | |
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42
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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43
bugles
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| 妙脆角，一种类似薯片但做成尖角或喇叭状的零食； 号角( bugle的名词复数 )； 喇叭； 匍匐筋骨草； （装饰女服用的）柱状玻璃（或塑料）小珠 | |
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44
scatter
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| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
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45
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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46
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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47
sleepers
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| n.卧铺（通常以复数形式出现）；卧车( sleeper的名词复数 )；轨枕；睡觉（呈某种状态）的人；小耳环 | |
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48
brokers
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| n.（股票、外币等）经纪人( broker的名词复数 )；中间人；代理商；（订合同的）中人v.做掮客（或中人等）( broker的第三人称单数 )；作为权力经纪人进行谈判；以中间人等身份安排… | |
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49
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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50
beseeching
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| adj.恳求似的v.恳求，乞求（某事物）( beseech的现在分词 ) | |
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51
entreaties
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| n.恳求，乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
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52
thump
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| v.重击，砰然地响；n.重击，重击声 | |
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53
pennant
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| n.三角旗；锦标旗 | |
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54
twine
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| v.搓，织，编饰；（使）缠绕 | |
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55
trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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56
volition
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| n.意志；决意 | |
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57
bard
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| n.吟游诗人 | |
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58
beckoning
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| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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59
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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60
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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61
lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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62
babbles
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| n.胡言乱语( babble的名词复数 )；听不清的声音；乱哄哄的说话声v.喋喋不休( babble的第三人称单数 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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63
brooks
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| n.小溪( brook的名词复数 ) | |
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64
hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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65
displeases
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| 冒犯，使生气，使不愉快( displease的第三人称单数 ) | |
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66
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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67
pennants
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| n.校旗( pennant的名词复数 )；锦标旗；长三角旗；信号旗 | |
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68
sentry
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| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
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69
trumpets
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| 喇叭( trumpet的名词复数 )； 小号； 喇叭形物； （尤指）绽开的水仙花 | |
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70
populous
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| adj.人口稠密的，人口众多的 | |
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71
depots
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| 仓库( depot的名词复数 )； 火车站； 车库； 军需库 | |
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72
depot
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| n.仓库，储藏处；公共汽车站；火车站 | |
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73
hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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74
hover
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| vi.翱翔，盘旋；徘徊；彷徨，犹豫 | |
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75
lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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76
plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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77
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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78
countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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79
gatherings
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| 聚集( gathering的名词复数 )； 收集； 采集； 搜集 | |
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80
spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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81
haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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82
arbor
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| n.凉亭；树木 | |
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83
starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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84
cleave
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| v．(clave；cleaved)粘着，粘住；坚持；依恋 | |
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85
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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86
flaunt
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| vt.夸耀，夸饰 | |
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87
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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88
demons
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| n.恶人( demon的名词复数 )；恶魔；精力过人的人；邪念 | |
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slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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90
premature
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| adj.比预期时间早的；不成熟的，仓促的 | |
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91
prattled
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| v.（小孩般）天真无邪地说话( prattle的过去式和过去分词 )；发出连续而无意义的声音；闲扯；东拉西扯 | |
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92
yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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93
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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94
cedars
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| 雪松，西洋杉( cedar的名词复数 ) | |
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95
devouring
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| 吞没( devour的现在分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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96
labial
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| adj.唇的；唇音的；n.唇音，风琴管 | |
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97
persuasive
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| adj.有说服力的，能说得使人相信的 | |
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98
croaking
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的现在分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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99
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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100
dilate
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| vt.使膨胀，使扩大 | |
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101
resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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102
ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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103
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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104
cargoes
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| n.（船或飞机装载的）货物( cargo的名词复数 )；大量，重负 | |
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105
machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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106
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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107
thrift
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| adj.节约，节俭；n.节俭，节约 | |
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108
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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109
fathomless
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| a.深不可测的 | |
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110
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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111
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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112
supercilious
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| adj.目中无人的，高傲的；adv.高傲地；n.高傲 | |
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113
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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114
mightier
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| adj. 强有力的，强大的，巨大的 adv. 很，极其 | |
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115
torrents
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| n.倾注；奔流( torrent的名词复数 )；急流；爆发；连续不断 | |
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116
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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117
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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118
bellows
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| n.风箱；发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的名词复数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的第三人称单数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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119
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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120
lull
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| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
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121
deafening
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| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
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122
orbs
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| abbr.off-reservation boarding school 在校寄宿学校n.球，天体，圆形物( orb的名词复数 ) | |
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123
immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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124
primal
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| adj.原始的；最重要的 | |
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125
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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126
glutted
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| v.吃得过多( glut的过去式和过去分词 )；（对胃口、欲望等）纵情满足；使厌腻；塞满 | |
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127
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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128
brandishing
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| v.挥舞( brandish的现在分词 )；炫耀 | |
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129
abeyance
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| n.搁置，缓办，中止，产权未定 | |
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130
sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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131
rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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132
recede
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| vi.退(去)，渐渐远去；向后倾斜，缩进 | |
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133
eddies
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| （水、烟等的）漩涡，涡流( eddy的名词复数 ) | |
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134
facades
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| n.（房屋的）正面( facade的名词复数 )；假象，外观 | |
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135
extravagant
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| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
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136
incarnated
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| v.赋予（思想、精神等）以人的形体( incarnate的过去式和过去分词 )；使人格化；体现；使具体化 | |
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137
condemn
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| vt.谴责，指责；宣判(罪犯)，判刑 | |
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138
faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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139
muskets
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| n.火枪，（尤指）滑膛枪( musket的名词复数 ) | |
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140
dallying
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| v.随随便便地对待( dally的现在分词 )；不很认真地考虑；浪费时间；调情 | |
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141
mire
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| n.泥沼，泥泞；v.使...陷于泥泞，使...陷入困境 | |
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142
vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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143
swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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144
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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145
jauntily
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| adv.心满意足地；洋洋得意地；高兴地；活泼地 | |
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146
defiles
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| v.玷污( defile的第三人称单数 )；污染；弄脏；纵列行进 | |
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147
wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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148
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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149
bask
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| vt.取暖，晒太阳，沐浴于 | |
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150
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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151
arrogant
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
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152
eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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153
westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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154
phantoms
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| n.鬼怪，幽灵( phantom的名词复数 ) | |
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155
phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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156
intercept
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| vt.拦截，截住，截击 | |
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157
droops
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的名词复数 ) | |
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158
cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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159
Ford
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| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
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160
serpentine
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| adj.蜿蜒的，弯曲的 | |
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161
negligent
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| adj.疏忽的；玩忽的；粗心大意的 | |
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162
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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163
orchards
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| （通常指围起来的）果园( orchard的名词复数 ) | |
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164
orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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165
dingily
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| adv.暗黑地，邋遢地 | |
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166
looming
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| n.上现蜃景（光通过低层大气发生异常折射形成的一种海市蜃楼）v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的现在分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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167
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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168
corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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169
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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170
toiling
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的现在分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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171
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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172
kindled
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| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
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173
shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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174
wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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175
transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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176
prospers
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| v.成功，兴旺( prosper的第三人称单数 ) | |
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177
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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178
huddle
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| vi.挤作一团；蜷缩；vt.聚集；n.挤在一起的人 | |
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179
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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180
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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181
onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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182
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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183
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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184
lining
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| n.衬里，衬料 | |
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185
slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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186
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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187
glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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188
impromptu
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| adj.即席的，即兴的；adv.即兴的(地)，无准备的(地) | |
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189
stationary
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| adj.固定的，静止不动的 | |
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190
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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191
abdomen
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| n.腹，下腹(胸部到腿部的部分) | |
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192
stanch
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| v.止住（血等）；adj.坚固的；坚定的 | |
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193
postures
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| 姿势( posture的名词复数 )； 看法； 态度； 立场 | |
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194
planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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195
glisten
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| vi.（光洁或湿润表面等）闪闪发光，闪闪发亮 | |
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196
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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197
woolen
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| adj.羊毛(制)的；毛纺的 | |
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198
toils
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| 网 | |
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199
muse
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| n.缪斯（希腊神话中的女神），创作灵感 | |
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200
inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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201
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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202
perseveres
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| v.坚忍，坚持( persevere的第三人称单数 ) | |
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203
heeded
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的过去式和过去分词 )；变平，使（某物）变平( flatten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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204
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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205
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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206
dirge
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| n.哀乐，挽歌，庄重悲哀的乐曲 | |
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207
dirges
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| n.挽歌( dirge的名词复数 )；忧伤的歌，哀歌 | |
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208
hymns
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌( hymn的名词复数 ) | |
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209
maidens
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| 处女( maiden的名词复数 )； 少女； 未婚女子； （板球运动）未得分的一轮投球 | |
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210
relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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211
soothe
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| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
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212
mightiest
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| adj.趾高气扬( mighty的最高级 )；巨大的；强有力的；浩瀚的 | |
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213
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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214
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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215
perils
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| 极大危险( peril的名词复数 )； 危险的事（或环境） | |
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216
projections
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| 预测( projection的名词复数 )； 投影； 投掷； 突起物 | |
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217
imprints
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| n.压印( imprint的名词复数 )；痕迹；持久影响 | |
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218
clotted
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| adj.凝结的v.凝固( clot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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219
pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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220
rattles
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| （使）发出格格的响声， （使）作嘎嘎声( rattle的第三人称单数 )； 喋喋不休地说话； 迅速而嘎嘎作响地移动，堕下或走动； 使紧张，使恐惧 | |
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221
glazed
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| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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222
stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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223
undo
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| vt.解开，松开；取消，撤销 | |
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224
slough
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| v.蜕皮，脱落，抛弃 | |
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225
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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226
cleanse
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| vt.使清洁，使纯洁，清洗 | |
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227
gnawing
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| a.痛苦的，折磨人的 | |
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228
putrid
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| adj.腐臭的；有毒的；已腐烂的；卑劣的 | |
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229
thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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230
pacify
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| vt.使(某人)平静(或息怒)；抚慰 | |
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231
soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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232
recoiling
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| v.畏缩( recoil的现在分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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233
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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234
recluse
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| n.隐居者 | |
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235
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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236
procure
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| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
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237
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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238
incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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239
trampling
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| 踩( trample的现在分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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240
repletion
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| n.充满，吃饱 | |
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241
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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242
wagons
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| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
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243
pageants
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| n.盛装的游行( pageant的名词复数 )；穿古代服装的游行；再现历史场景的娱乐活动；盛会 | |
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244
throbs
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| 体内的跳动( throb的名词复数 ) | |
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245
throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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246
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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247
ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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248
invincible
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| adj.不可征服的，难以制服的 | |
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249
victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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250
balk
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| n.大方木料；v.妨碍；不愿前进或从事某事 | |
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251
immolate
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| v.牺牲 | |
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252
wafted
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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253
dependence
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| n.依靠，依赖；信任，信赖；隶属 | |
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254
hoops
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| n.箍( hoop的名词复数 )；（篮球）篮圈；（旧时儿童玩的）大环子；（两端埋在地里的）小铁弓 | |
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255
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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256
cohere
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| vt.附着，连贯，一致 | |
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257
slumbering
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的现在分词形式） | |
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258
shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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259
suffocating
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| a.使人窒息的 | |
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260
concealing
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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261
chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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262
wafts
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| n.空中飘来的气味，一阵气味( waft的名词复数 )；摇转风扇v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的第三人称单数 ) | |
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263
exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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264
infantry
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| n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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265
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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266
galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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267
saluting
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的现在分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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268
doughty
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| adj.勇猛的，坚强的 | |
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269
pertains
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| 关于( pertain的第三人称单数 )； 有关； 存在； 适用 | |
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270
beguile
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| vt.欺骗，消遣 | |
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271
parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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272
coterie
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| n.(有共同兴趣的)小团体，小圈子 | |
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273
inures
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| vt.使习惯（inure的第三人称单数形式） | |
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274
inure
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| v.使惯于 | |
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275
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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276
milky
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| adj.牛奶的，多奶的；乳白色的 | |
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277
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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278
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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279
reconciliation
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| n.和解，和谐，一致 | |
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280
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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281
coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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282
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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283
ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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284
lure
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| n.吸引人的东西，诱惑物；vt.引诱，吸引 | |
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285
defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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286
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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287
civilian
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| adj.平民的，民用的，民众的 | |
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288
dulcet
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| adj.悦耳的 | |
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289
languishing
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| a. 衰弱下去的 | |
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290
martial
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| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
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291
wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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292
conspired
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| 密谋( conspire的过去式和过去分词 )； 搞阴谋； （事件等）巧合； 共同导致 | |
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293
beleaguering
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| v.围攻( beleaguer的现在分词 )；困扰；骚扰 | |
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294
thwarting
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| 阻挠( thwart的现在分词 )； 使受挫折； 挫败； 横过 | |
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295
dominant
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| adj.支配的，统治的；占优势的；显性的；n.主因，要素，主要的人(或物)；显性基因 | |
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296
psalms
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| n.赞美诗( psalm的名词复数 )；圣诗；圣歌；(中的) | |
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297
reverberates
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| 回响，回荡( reverberate的第三人称单数 )； 使反响，使回荡，使反射 | |
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298
bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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299
slanted
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| 有偏见的； 倾斜的 | |
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300
hectic
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| adj.肺病的；消耗热的；发热的；闹哄哄的 | |
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301
scorch
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| v.烧焦，烤焦；高速疾驶；n.烧焦处，焦痕 | |
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302
blister
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| n.水疱；(油漆等的)气泡；v.(使)起泡 | |
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303
contention
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| n.争论，争辩，论战；论点，主张 | |
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304
manoeuvre
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| n.策略，调动；v.用策略，调动 | |
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305
stimulus
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| n.刺激，刺激物，促进因素，引起兴奋的事物 | |
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306
contentious
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| adj.好辩的，善争吵的 | |
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307
ambushes
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| n.埋伏( ambush的名词复数 )；伏击；埋伏着的人；设埋伏点v.埋伏( ambush的第三人称单数 )；埋伏着 | |
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308
recording
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| n.录音，记录 | |
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309
feudal
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| adj.封建的，封地的，领地的 | |
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310
inured
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| adj.坚强的，习惯的 | |
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311
untying
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| untie的现在分词 | |
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312
vistas
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| 长条形景色( vista的名词复数 )； 回顾； 展望； （未来可能发生的）一系列情景 | |
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313
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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314
attest
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| vt.证明，证实；表明 | |
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315
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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316
ripen
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| vt.使成熟；vi.成熟 | |
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