1
TO conclude—I announce what comes after me; | |
| I announce mightier offspring, orators, days, and then, for the present, depart. | |
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| I remember I said, before my leaves sprang at all, | |
| I would raise my voice jocund and strong, with reference to consummations. | |
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| When America does what was promis’d, | 5 |
| When there are plentiful athletic bards, inland and seaboard, | |
| When through These States walk a hundred millions of superb persons, | |
| When the rest part away for superb persons, and contribute to them, | |
| When breeds of the most perfect mothers denote America, | |
| Then to me and mine our due fruition. | 10 |
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| I have press’d through in my own right, | |
| I have sung the Body and the Soul—War and Peace have I sung, | |
| And the songs of Life and of Birth—and shown that there are many births: | |
| I have offer’d my style to everyone—I have journey’d with confident step; | |
| While my pleasure is yet at the full, I whisper, So long! | 15 |
| And take the young woman’s hand, and the young man’s hand, for the last time. | |
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2
I announce natural persons to arise; | |
| I announce justice triumphant; | |
| I announce uncompromising liberty and equality; | |
| I announce the justification of candor, and the justification of pride. | 20 |
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| I announce that the identity of These States is a single identity only; | |
| I announce the Union more and more compact, indissoluble; | |
| I announce splendors and majesties to make all the previous politics of the earth insignificant. | |
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| I announce adhesiveness—I say it shall be limitless, unloosen’d; | |
| I say you shall yet find the friend you were looking for. | 25 |
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| I announce a man or woman coming—perhaps you are the one, (So long!) | |
| I announce the great individual, fluid as Nature, chaste, affectionate, compassionate, fully armed. | |
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| I announce a life that shall be copious, vehement, spiritual, bold; | |
| I announce an end that shall lightly and joyfully meet its translation; | |
| I announce myriads of youths, beautiful, gigantic, sweet-blooded; | 30 |
| I announce a race of splendid and savage old men. | |
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3
O thicker and faster! (So long!) | |
| O crowding too close upon me; | |
| I foresee too much—it means more than I thought; | |
| It appears to me I am dying. | 35 |
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| Hasten throat, and sound your last! | |
| Salute me—salute the days once more. Peal the old cry once more. | |
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| Screaming electric, the atmosphere using, | |
| At random glancing, each as I notice absorbing, | |
| Swiftly on, but a little while alighting, | 40 |
| Curious envelop’d messages delivering, | |
| Sparkles hot, seed ethereal, down in the dirt dropping, | |
| Myself unknowing, my commission obeying, to question it never daring, | |
| To ages, and ages yet, the growth of the seed leaving, | |
| To troops out of me, out of the army, the war arising—they the tasks I have set promulging, | 45 |
| To women certain whispers of myself bequeathing—their affection me more clearly explaining, | |
| To young men my problems offering—no dallier I—I the muscle of their brains trying, | |
| So I pass—a little time vocal, visible, contrary; | |
| Afterward, a melodious echo, passionately bent for—(death making me really undying;) | |
| The best of me then when no longer visible—for toward that I have been incessantly preparing. | 50 |
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| What is there more, that I lag and pause, and crouch extended with unshut mouth? | |
| Is there a single final farewell? | |
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4
My songs cease—I abandon them; | |
| From behind the screen where I hid I advance personally, solely to you. | |
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| Camerado! This is no book; | 55 |
| Who touches this, touches a man; | |
| (Is it night? Are we here alone?) | |
| It is I you hold, and who holds you; | |
| I spring from the pages into your arms—decease calls me forth. | |
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| O how your fingers drowse me! | 60 |
| Your breath falls around me like dew—your pulse lulls the tympans of my ears; | |
| I feel immerged from head to foot; | |
| Delicious—enough. | |
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| Enough, O deed impromptu and secret! | |
| Enough, O gliding present! Enough, O summ’d-up past! | 65 |
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5
Dear friend, whoever you are, take this kiss, | |
| I give it especially to you—Do not forget me; | |
| I feel like one who has done work for the day, to retire awhile; | |
| I receive now again of my many translations—from my avataras ascending—while others doubtless await me; | |
| An unknown sphere, more real than I dream’d, more direct, darts awakening rays about me—So long! | 70 |
| Remember my words—I may again return, | |
| I love you—I depart from materials; | |
| I am as one disembodied, triumphant, dead. | |