234. Brother of All, with Generous Hand



1

BROTHER of all, with generous hand,       
Of thee, pondering on thee, as o’er thy tomb, I and my Soul,       
A thought to launch in memory of thee,       
A burial verse for thee.       
     
What may we chant, O thou within this tomb?            5   
What tablets, pictures, hang for thee, O millionaire?       
—The life thou lived’st we know not,       
But that thou walk’dst thy years in barter, ’mid the haunts of brokers;       
Nor heroism thine, nor war, nor glory.       
     
Yet lingering, yearning, joining soul with thine,     10   
If not thy past we chant, we chant the future,       
Select, adorn the future.       
     
2

Lo, Soul, the graves of heroes!       
The pride of lands—the gratitudes of men,       
The statues of the manifold famous dead, Old World and New,     15   
The kings, inventors, generals, poets, (stretch wide thy vision, Soul,)       
The excellent rulers of the races, great discoverers, sailors,       
Marble and brass select from them, with pictures, scenes,       
(The histories of the lands, the races, bodied there,       
In what they’ve built for, graced and graved,     20   
Monuments to their heroes.)       
     
3

Silent, my Soul,       
With drooping lids, as waiting, ponder’d,       
Turning from all the samples, all the monuments of heroes.       
     
While through the interior vistas,     25   
Noiseless uprose, phantasmic (as, by night, Auroras of the North,)       
Lambent tableaux, prophetic, bodiless scenes,       
Spiritual projections.       
     
In one, among the city streets, a laborer’s home appear’d,       
After his day’s work done, cleanly, sweet-air’d, the gaslight burning,     30   
The carpet swept, and a fire in the cheerful stove.       
     
In one, the sacred parturition scene,       
A happy, painless mother birth’d a perfect child.       
     
In one, at a bounteous morning meal,       
Sat peaceful parents, with contented sons.     35   
     
In one, by twos and threes, young people,       
Hundreds concentering, walk’d the paths and streets and roads,       
Toward a tall-domed school.       
     
In one a trio, beautiful,       
Grandmother, loving daughter, loving daughter’s daughter, sat,     40   
Chatting and sewing.       
     
In one, along a suite of noble rooms,       
’Mid plenteous books and journals, paintings on the walls, fine statuettes,       
Were groups of friendly journeymen, mechanics, young and old,       
Reading, conversing.     45   
     
All, all the shows of laboring life,       
City and country, women’s, men’s and children’s,       
Their wants provided for, hued in the sun, and tinged for once with joy,       
Marriage, the street, the factory, farm, the house-room, lodging-room,       
Labor and toil, the bath, gymnasium, play-ground, library, college,     50   
The student, boy or girl, led forward to be taught;       
The sick cared for, the shoeless shod—the orphan father’d and mother’d,       
The hungry fed, the houseless housed;       
(The intentions perfect and divine,       
The workings, details, haply human.)     55   
     
4

O thou within this tomb,       
From thee, such scenes—thou stintless, lavish Giver,       
Tallying the gifts of Earth—large as the Earth,       
Thy name an Earth, with mountains, fields and rivers.       
     
Nor by your streams alone, you rivers,     60   
By you, your banks, Connecticut,       
By you, and all your teeming life, Old Thames,       
By you, Potomac, laving the ground Washington trod—by you Patapsco,       
You, Hudson—you, endless Mississippi—not by you alone,       
But to the high seas launch, my thought, his memory.     65   
     
5

Lo, Soul, by this tomb’s lambency,       
The darkness of the arrogant standards of the world,       
With all its flaunting aims, ambitions, pleasures.       
     
(Old, commonplace, and rusty saws,       
The rich, the gay, the supercilious, smiled at long,     70   
Now, piercing to the marrow in my bones,       
Fused with each drop my heart’s blood jets,       
Swim in ineffable meaning.)       
     
Lo, Soul, the sphere requireth, portioneth,       
To each his share, his measure,     75   
The moderate to the moderate, the ample to the ample.       
     
Lo, Soul, see’st thou not, plain as the sun,       
The only real wealth of wealth in generosity,       
The only life of life in goodness?

235. Night on The Prairies



NIGHT on the prairies;       
The supper is over—the fire on the ground burns low;       
The wearied emigrants sleep, wrapt in their blankets:       
I walk by myself—I stand and look at the stars, which I think now I never realized before.       
     
Now I absorb immortality and peace,            5   
I admire death, and test propositions.       
     
How plenteous! How spiritual! How resumé!       
The same Old Man and Soul—the same old aspirations, and the same content.       
     
I was thinking the day most splendid, till I saw what the not-day exhibited,       
I was thinking this globe enough, till there sprang out so noiseless around me myriads of other globes.     10   
     
Now, while the great thoughts of space and eternity fill me, I will measure myself by them;       
And now, touch’d with the lives of other globes, arrived as far along as those of the earth,       
Or waiting to arrive, or pass’d on farther than those of the earth,       
I henceforth no more ignore them, than I ignore my own life,       
Or the lives of the earth arrived as far as mine, or waiting to arrive.     15   
     
O I see now that life cannot exhibit all to me—as the day cannot,       
I see that I am to wait for what will be exhibited by death.

236. On Journeys Through The States



ON journeys through the States we start,       
(Ay, through the world—urged by these songs,       
Sailing henceforth to every land—to every sea;)       
We, willing learners of all, teachers of all, and lovers of all.       
     
We have watch’d the seasons dispensing themselves, and passing on,            5   
We have said, Why should not a man or woman do as much as the seasons, and effuse as much?       
     
We dwell a while in every city and town;       
We pass through Kanada, the north-east, the vast valley of the Mississippi, and the Southern States;       
We confer on equal terms with each of The States,       
We make trial of ourselves, and invite men and women to hear;     10   
We say to ourselves, Remember, fear not, be candid, promulge the body and the Soul;       
Dwell a while and pass on—Be copious, temperate, chaste, magnetic,       
And what you effuse may then return as the seasons return,       
And may be just as much as the seasons.

237. Savantism



THITHER, as I look, I see each result and glory retracing itself and nestling close, always obligated;       
Thither hours, months, years—thither trades, compacts, establishments, even the most minute;       
Thither every-day life, speech, utensils, politics, persons, estates;       
Thither we also, I with my leaves and songs, trustful, admirant,       
As a father, to his father going, takes his children along with him.

238. Locations and Times



LOCATIONS and times—what is it in me that meets them all, whenever and wherever, and makes me at home?       
Forms, colors, densities, odors—what is it in me that corresponds with them?

239. Thought



OF Equality—As if it harm’d me, giving others the same chances and rights as myself—As if it were not indispensable to my own rights that others possess the same.

240. Offerings



A THOUSAND perfect men and women appear,       
Around each gathers a cluster of friends, and gay children and youths, with offerings.   

241. Tests



ALL submit to them, where they sit, inner, secure, unapproachable to analysis, in the Soul;       
Not traditions—not the outer authorities are the judges—they are the judges of outer authorities, and of all traditions;       
They corroborate as they go, only whatever corroborates themselves, and touches themselves;       
For all that, they have it forever in themselves to corroborate far and near, without one exception.   

242. The Torch



ON my northwest coast in the midst of the night, a fishermen’s group stands watching;       
Out on the lake, that expands before them, others are spearing salmon;       
The canoe, a dim shadowy thing, moves across the black water,       
Bearing a Torch a-blaze at the prow.

243. Gods



1

THOUGHT of the Infinite—the All!       
Be thou my God.       
     
2

Lover Divine, and Perfect Comrade!       
Waiting, content, invisible yet, but certain,       
Be thou my God.            5   
     
3

Thou—thou, the Ideal Man!       
Fair, able, beautiful, content, and loving,       
Complete in Body, and dilate in Spirit,       
Be thou my God.       
     
4

O Death—(for Life has served its turn;)     10   
Opener and usher to the heavenly mansion!       
Be thou my God.       
     
5

Aught, aught, of mightiest, best, I see, conceive, or know,       
(To break the stagnant tie—thee, thee to free, O Soul,)       
Be thou my God.     15   
     
6

Or thee, Old Cause, when’er advancing;       
All great Ideas, the races’ aspirations,       
All that exalts, releases thee, my Soul!       
All heroisms, deeds of rapt enthusiasts,       
Be ye my Gods!     20   
     
7

Or Time and Space!       
Or shape of Earth, divine and wondrous!       
Or shape in I myself—or some fair shape, I, viewing, worship,       
Or lustrous orb of Sun, or star by night:       
Be ye my Gods.