Poem by Walt Whitman

Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 5. A Carol Closing Sixty-Nine

A carol closing sixty-nine—a resume—a repetition,
My lines in joy and hope continuing on the same,
Of ye, O God, Life, Nature, Freedom, Poetry;
Of you, my Land—your rivers, prairies, States—you, mottled Flag I love,
Your aggregate retain'd entire—Of north, south, east and west, your
      items all;
Of me myself—the jocund heart yet beating in my breast,
The body wreck'd, old, poor and paralyzed—the strange inertia
      falling pall-like round me,
The burning fires down in my sluggish blood not yet extinct,
The undiminish'd faith—the groups of loving friends.

1. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 56. Old Age's Lambent Peaks
2. Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 13. Out from Behind This Mask [To Confront a Portrait]
3. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 32. Life
4. Leaves of Grass. 5. Calamus. 16. Behold This Swarthy Face
5. Leaves of Grass. 5. Calamus. 21. The Prairie-Grass Dividing

Print

1946 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version