Walt Whitman “When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d”
Summary and Form
This 1865
poem is part of a series of pieces written after Lincoln’s
assassination. While it does not display all the conventions of the form, this
is nevertheless considered to be a pastoral elegy: a poem of mourning that
makes use of elaborate conventions drawn from the natural world and rustic
human society.
Virgil is the most prominent classical
practitioner of the form; Milton’s “Lycidas” and Shelley’s
“Adonais” are the two best-known examples in the English tradition. One of the
most important features of the pastoral elegy is the depiction of the deceased
and the poet who mourns him as shepherds. While the association is not
specifically made in this poem, it must surely have been in Whitman’s mind as
he wrote: Lincoln, in many ways, was the “shepherd” of the American people
during wartime, and his loss left the North in the position of a flock without
a leader. As in traditional pastoral elegies, nature mourns Lincoln’s death in
this poem, although it does so in some rather unconventional ways (more on that
in a moment). The poem also makes reference to the problems of modern times in
its brief, shadowy depictions of Civil War battles. The natural order is
contrasted with the human one, and Whitman goes so far as to suggest that those
who have died violent deaths in war are actually the lucky ones, since they are
now beyond suffering.
Above all
this is a public poem of private mourning. In it Whitman tries to determine the
best way to mourn a public figure, and the best way to mourn in a modern world.
In his resignation at the end of the poem, and in his use of disconnected
motifs, he suggests that the kind of ceremonial poetry a pastoral elegy
represents may no longer have a place in society; instead, symbolic, intensely
personal forms must take over.
Commentary
“When
Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d” is composed of three separate yet
simultaneous poems. One follows the progress of Lincoln’s coffin on its way to
the president’s burial. The second stays with the poet and his sprig of lilac,
meant to be laid on the coffin in tribute, as he ruminates on death and
mourning. The third uses the symbols of a bird and a star to develop an idea of
a nature sympathetic to yet separate from humanity. The progression of the
coffin is followed by a sad irony. Mourners, dressed in black and holding
offerings of flowers, turn out in the streets to see Lincoln’s corpse pass by.
The Civil War is raging, though, and many of these people have surely lost
loved ones of their own. Yet their losses are subsumed in a greater national
tragedy, which in its publicness and in the fact that this poem is being written
as part of the mourning process, is set up to be a far greater loss than that
of their own family members. In this way the poem implicitly asks the question,
“What is the worth of a man? Are some men worth more than others?” The poet’s
eventual inability to mourn, and the depictions of anonymous death on the
battlefields, suggest that something is wrong here.
The poet
vacillates on the nature of symbolic mourning. At times he seems to see his
offering of the lilac blossom as being symbolically given to all the dead; at
other moments he sees it as futile, merely a broken twig. He wonders how best
to do honor to the dead, asking how he would decorate the tomb. He suggests
that he would fill it with portraits of everyday life and everyday men. This is
a far cry from the classical statuary and elaborate floral arrangements usually
associated with tombs. The language in the poem follows a similar shift. In the
first stanzas the language is formal and at times even archaic, filled with
exhortations and rhetorical devices. By the end much of the ceremoniousness has
been stripped away; the poet offers only “lilac and star and bird twined with
the chant of [his] soul.” Eventually the poet simply leaves behind the sprig of
lilac, and “cease[s] from [his] song,” still unsure of just how to mourn
properly.
The final
image of the poem is of “the fragrant pines and the cedars dusk and dim.” All
has been worked through save nature, which remains separate and beyond. The
death-song of the bird expresses an understanding and a beauty that Whitman,
even while he incorporates it into his poem, cannot quite master for himself.
Unlike the pastoral elegies of old, which use a temporary rift with nature to
comment on modernity, this one shows a profound and permanent disconnection
between the human and natural worlds. “When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard
Bloom’d” mourns for Lincoln in a way that is all the more profound for seeing
the president’s death as only a smaller, albeit highly symbolic, tragedy in the
midst of a world of confusion and sadness.
Leaves of Grass Summary and Analysis: Calamus "When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd"
"When Lilacs Last in the
Dooryard Bloom'd- is an elegy on the death of Abraham Lincoln, though it never
mentions the president by name. Like most elegies, it develops from the
personal (the death of Lincoln and the poet's grief) to the impersonal (the
death of "all of you" and death itself); from an intense feeling of
grief to the thought of reconciliation. The poem, which is one of the finest
Whitman ever wrote, is a dramatization of this feeling of loss. This elegy is
grander and more touching than Whitman's other two elegies on Lincoln's death,
"0 Captain! My Captain!" and "Hush'd Be the Camps To-day."
The form is elegiac but also contains elements found in operatic music, such as
the aria and recitative. The song of the hermit thrush, for example, is an
"aria."
Abraham Lincoln was shot in Washington, D.C., by Booth on April 14, 1865, and
died the following day. The body was sent by train from Washington to
Springfield, Illinois. As it crossed the continent, it was saluted by the
people of America. Whitman has not only men and women but even natural objects
saluting the dead man.
The first cycle of the poem,
comprising sections 1-4, presents the setting in clear perspective. As spring
returns, the lilacs blossom, and the planet Venus "nearly dropp'd in the
western sky," the poet mourns the loss "of him I love." He
mourns the "powerful western fallen star" now covered by "black
murk" in the "tearful night," and he is "powerless"
and "helpless" because the cloud around him "will not free my
soul." He observes a lilac bush, is deeply affected by its perfume, and
believes that "every leaf [is] a miracle." He breaks off a small
branch with "heart-shaped Leaves." A shy, solitary thrush,
like a secluded hermit, sings a song which is an expression of its inmost
grief. It sings "death's outlet song of life."
This first section of the poem
introduces the three principal symbols of the poem — the lilac, the star, and
the bird. They are woven into a poetic and dramatic pattern. The meaning of
Whitman's symbols is neither fixed nor constant. The star, Venus, is identified
with Lincoln, generally, but it also represents the poet's grief for the dead.
Lilacs, which are associated with everreturning spring, are a symbol of
resurrection, while its heartshaped Leaves symbolize love. The purple
color of the lilac, indicating the passion of the Crucifixion, is highly
suggestive of the violence of Lincoln's death. The bird is the symbol of
reconciliation with death and its song is the soul's voice. "Death's
outlet song of life" means that out of death will come renewed life. Death
is described as a "dark mother" or a "strong deliveress,"
which suggests that it is a necessary process for rebirth. The emotional drama
in the poem is built around this symbolic framework. The continual recurrence
of the spring season symbolizes the cycle of life and death and rebirth. The
words "ever-returning spring," which occur in line 3 and are repeated
in line 4, emphasize the idea of rebirth and resurrection. The date of
Lincoln's assassination coincided with Easter, the time of Christ's
resurrection. These two elements provide the setting to the poem in time and
space.
The second stanza of the poem
describes the poet's intense grief for the dead. Each line begins with
"O," an exclamation which is like the shape of a mouth open in woe.
The second cycle of the poem
comprises sections 5-9. It describes the journey of the coffin through natural
scenery and industrial cities, both representing facets of American life. The
thrush's song in section 4 is a prelude to the journey of the coffin which will
pass "over the breast of the spring" through cities, woods, wheat
fields, and orchards. But "in the midst of life we are in death," as
it says in the Book of Common Prayer, and now the cities are "draped in
black" and the states, like "crape-veil'd women," mourn and
salute the dead. Somber faces, solemn voices, and mournful dirges mark the
journey across the American continent.
To the dead man, the poet offers
"my sprig of lilac," his obituary tribute. The poet brings fresh
blossoms not for Lincoln alone, but for all men. He chants a song "for you
0 sane and sacred death" and offers flowers to "the coffins all of
you 0 death."
The poet now addresses the star
shining in the western sky: "Now I know what you must have meant."
Last month the star seemed as if it "had something to tell" the poet.
Whitman imagines that the star was full of woe "as the night
advanced" until it vanished "in the netherward black of the
night." Whitman calls upon the bird to continue singing. Yet the poet
momentarily lingers on, held by the evening star, "my departing
comrade."
The symbols are retained
throughout this section. The poet bestows, as a mark of affection, a sprig of
lilac on the coffin. The association of death with an object of growing life is
significant. The star confides in the poet — a heavenly body identifies itself
with an earthly being. The star is identified with Lincoln, and the poet is
still under the influence of his personal grief for the dead body of Lincoln,
and not yet able to perceive the spiritual existence of Lincoln after death.
The song of the hermit thrush finally makes the poet aware of the deathless and
the spiritual existence of Lincoln.
In the third cycle of the poem,
sections 10-13, the poet wonders how he shall sing "for the large sweet
soul that has gone." How shall he compose his tribute for the "dead
one there I loved"? With his poem he wishes to "perfume the grave of
him I love." The pictures on the dead president's tomb, he says, should be
of spring and sun and Leaves, a river, hills, and the sky, the city
dense with dwellings, and people at work — in short, "all the scenes of
life." The "body and soul" of America will be in them, the
beauties of Manhattan spires as well as the shores of the Ohio and the Missouri
rivers — all "the varied and ample land." The "gray-brown
bird" is singing "from the swamps" its "loud human
song" of woe. The song has a liberating effect on the poet's soul,
although the star still holds him, as does the mastering odor" of the
lilac.
In this cycle the description of
natural objects and phenomena indicates the breadth of Lincoln's vision, and
the "purple" dawn, "delicious" eve, and "welcome"
night suggest the continuous, endless cycle of the day, which, in turn,
symbolizes Lincoln's immortality.
Sections 14-16 comprise a
restatement of the earlier themes and symbols of the poem in a perspective of
immortality. The poet remembers that one day while he sat in the peaceful but
"unconscious scenery of my land," a cloud with a "long black
trail" appeared and enveloped everything. Suddenly he "knew
death." He walked between "the knowledge of death" and "the
thought of death." He fled to the bird, who sang "the carol of
death." The song of the thrush follows this passage. It praises death,
which it describes as "lovely," "soothing," and
"delicate." The "fathomless universe" is adored "for
life and joy" and "sweet love." Death is described as a "dark
mother always gliding near with soft feet." To her, the bird sings a song
of "fullest welcome." Death is a "strong deliveress" to
whom "the body gratefully" nestles.
The thrush's song is the
spiritual ally of the poet. As the bird sings, the poet sees a vision:
"And I saw askant the armies." He sees "battle-corpses" and
the "debris of all the slain soldiers." These dead soldiers are happy
in their resting places, but their parents and relatives continue to suffer
because they have lost them. The suffering is not of the dead, but of the
living.
The coffin has now reached the end of its journey. It passes the visions,"
the "song of the hermit bird," and the "tallying song" of
the poet's soul. "Death's outlet song" is heard, "sinking and
fainting," and yet bursting with joy. The joyful psalm fills the earth and
heaven. As the coffin passes him, the poet salutes it, reminding himself that
the lilac blooming in the dooryard will return each spring. The coffin has
reached its resting place in "the fragrant pines and the cedars dusk and
dim." The star, the bird, and the lilac join with the poet as he bids
goodbye to Lincoln, his "comrade, the dead I loved so well."
The poet's realization of
immortality through the emotional conflict of personal loss is the principal
theme of this great poem, which is a symbolistic dramatization of the poet's
grief and his ultimate reconciliation with the truths of life and death.
Type of Work
......."When Lilacs Last in the
Dooryard Bloom'd" is a lyric poem in the form of an elegy lamenting the
death of Abraham Lincoln. Walt Whitman wrote it in free verse, a form of poetry
without a metrical pattern. One line may be short, containing only seven
syllables; another may be long, containing more than twenty.
.......The poem exhibits characteristics of a special type of elegy, the pastoral elegy. These characteristics include the following:
.......The poem exhibits characteristics of a special type of elegy, the pastoral elegy. These characteristics include the following:
1...A
rural locale as its setting.
2...An idealized shepherd (Lincoln figuratively shepherded the American people through a crisis).
3...Expressions of grief and praise for the deceased.
4...A funeral procession.
5...Nature imagery.
6...A meditation on death.
7...An acceptance of death.
2...An idealized shepherd (Lincoln figuratively shepherded the American people through a crisis).
3...Expressions of grief and praise for the deceased.
4...A funeral procession.
5...Nature imagery.
6...A meditation on death.
7...An acceptance of death.
.......Gibson Brothers, a
Washington company, published "When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard
Bloom'd" in 1865 in a volume that contained another Whitman poem,
"Sequel to Drum Taps." "Lilacs" became part of the 1867
edition of Leaves of Grass, an expanding collection of Whitman's
poems.
.......The time is April. The place is a
rural locale with an old farmhouse. In front of the house is a yard with a
lilac bush. Nearby is a a swamp.
.......Abraham Lincoln, the sixteenth
American president, was mortally wounded by John Wilkes Booth at Ford's Theater
in Washington, D.C., on the evening of April 14, 1865. Wilkes had shot him in
the back of the head while Lincoln was in the presidential box watching the
third act of a play, Our American Cousin. Lincoln died the next day.
After lying in state at the Capitol on April 20, his body was transported by
train to Springfield, Ill., for burial in Oak Ridge Cemetery.
.......The tone of the poem is somber and
heavy with grief, but its mournfulness eases somewhat after the speaker
observes that death ends suffering. He even welcomes death:
Come lovely and soothing death,
Undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving,
In the day, in the night, to all, to each,
Sooner or later delicate death.
Undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving,
In the day, in the night, to all, to each,
Sooner or later delicate death.
Prais'd be
the fathomless universe,
For life and joy, and for objects and knowledge curious,
And for love, sweet love -- but praise! praise! praise!
For the sure-enwinding arms of cool-enfolding death. (lines 136-143)
For life and joy, and for objects and knowledge curious,
And for love, sweet love -- but praise! praise! praise!
For the sure-enwinding arms of cool-enfolding death. (lines 136-143)
.......The last time he noticed lilacs
blooming, says the poem's speaker, he saw a great star falling in the western
sky. (The falling star is the planet Venus, which symbolizes Abraham Lincoln.
Lincoln "fell" from power on April 14, 1865, when he was mortally
wounded. He died the following day). The speaker mourned. Now, as spring
returns, he again sees the blooming lilacs and the falling star, and again he
mourns the death of Lincoln. He will do so every year at this this time, he
says. When the dark sky hides the star, his soul becomes a prisoner of sadness.
.......The lilacs are on a bush in a yard in front of an old farmhouse. The green leaves of the bush are shaped like a heart, and the sprouting blossoms give off a fragrance that he loves. He breaks off a sprig as a remembrance.
.......In a nearby swamp, a hermit thrush sings a lonely song from a bleeding throat. (He is not unlike Whitman, who is "singing" a sorrowful poem.)
.......It was while spring was blooming that Lincoln's funeral train traveled from Washington, D.C., to his hometown of Springfield, Illinois, a distance of more than 1,600 miles, for burial of his body at a cemetery there. The speaker recalls that dreadful day. Here is how it was:
.......A cloud darkens the land as the train moves through the countryside, through cities draped in black, past grassy meadows and wheat fields, past apple orchards that blow pink and white blossoms. Bells toll and the people sing dirges. At nighttime, mourners with torches line the route. The speaker addresses the fallen president, saying,
"I give you my sprig of lilac."
.......But he says he also mourns for all who die a "sane and sacred death." He breaks off more sprigs of lilacs and, along with roses and lilacs, covers death itself. When he listens to the hermit thrush singing in the swamp, he asks it what he himself should sing (write in his elegy) for the fallen president and what his perfume should be for his grave. Then the speaker answers for himself, saying his perfume shall be the sea winds, blown from the Atlantic and the Pacific, joined with the breath of his chant at the site of the tomb. On the walls of the tomb, he says, he will hang
.......The lilacs are on a bush in a yard in front of an old farmhouse. The green leaves of the bush are shaped like a heart, and the sprouting blossoms give off a fragrance that he loves. He breaks off a sprig as a remembrance.
.......In a nearby swamp, a hermit thrush sings a lonely song from a bleeding throat. (He is not unlike Whitman, who is "singing" a sorrowful poem.)
.......It was while spring was blooming that Lincoln's funeral train traveled from Washington, D.C., to his hometown of Springfield, Illinois, a distance of more than 1,600 miles, for burial of his body at a cemetery there. The speaker recalls that dreadful day. Here is how it was:
.......A cloud darkens the land as the train moves through the countryside, through cities draped in black, past grassy meadows and wheat fields, past apple orchards that blow pink and white blossoms. Bells toll and the people sing dirges. At nighttime, mourners with torches line the route. The speaker addresses the fallen president, saying,
"I give you my sprig of lilac."
.......But he says he also mourns for all who die a "sane and sacred death." He breaks off more sprigs of lilacs and, along with roses and lilacs, covers death itself. When he listens to the hermit thrush singing in the swamp, he asks it what he himself should sing (write in his elegy) for the fallen president and what his perfume should be for his grave. Then the speaker answers for himself, saying his perfume shall be the sea winds, blown from the Atlantic and the Pacific, joined with the breath of his chant at the site of the tomb. On the walls of the tomb, he says, he will hang
Pictures of growing spring and farms
and homes,
With the Fourth-month eve at sundown, and the gray smoke lucid and bright,
With floods of the yellow gold of the gorgeous, indolent, sinking sun, burning, expanding the air,
With the fresh sweet herbage under foot, and the pale green leaves of the trees prolific,
In the distance the flowing glaze, the breast of the river, with a wind-dapple here and there,
With ranging hills on the banks, with many a line against the sky, and shadows,
And the city at hand with dwellings so dense, and stacks of chimneys,
And all the scenes of life and the workshops, and the workmen homeward returning. (lines 82-89)
With the Fourth-month eve at sundown, and the gray smoke lucid and bright,
With floods of the yellow gold of the gorgeous, indolent, sinking sun, burning, expanding the air,
With the fresh sweet herbage under foot, and the pale green leaves of the trees prolific,
In the distance the flowing glaze, the breast of the river, with a wind-dapple here and there,
With ranging hills on the banks, with many a line against the sky, and shadows,
And the city at hand with dwellings so dense, and stacks of chimneys,
And all the scenes of life and the workshops, and the workmen homeward returning. (lines 82-89)
.......The speaker says he will also hang
pictures of Manhattan, of tides and ships—and of the land itself, the South and
the North in light, the shores of the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers, the prairie
grass and corn, and other scenes of nature.
.......While sitting in twilight appreciating the scenery around him and the beauty of the skies, the speaker sees the dark cloud appear; he gains insight into death and learns something of its "sacred knowledge.”
.......In darkness, with death on his mind, he walks down to the shore of the waters and the “shadowy cedars and ghostly pines.” The gray-brown bird sings of death and of the one the speaker loves (Lincoln).
.......While sitting in twilight appreciating the scenery around him and the beauty of the skies, the speaker sees the dark cloud appear; he gains insight into death and learns something of its "sacred knowledge.”
.......In darkness, with death on his mind, he walks down to the shore of the waters and the “shadowy cedars and ghostly pines.” The gray-brown bird sings of death and of the one the speaker loves (Lincoln).
Prais’d be the fathomless universe,
For life and joy, and for objects and knowledge curious,
And for love, sweet love—but praise! praise!
For the sure-enwinding arms of cool-enfolding death. (lines 140-143)
For life and joy, and for objects and knowledge curious,
And for love, sweet love—but praise! praise!
For the sure-enwinding arms of cool-enfolding death. (lines 140-143)
.......The speaker has a vision of armies,
battlefields, smoke,splintered flag staffs, corpses, skeletons. But the
dead do not suffer. It is the soldiers' survivors—the wife, the mother, the
child, the comrade—who suffer. He walks away from the nighttime scene and the
lilac bush and ceases his song. But he has memories for "the sweetest,
wisest soul of all my days."
.
When Lilacs Last in the Door-yard Bloom’d
By Walt Whitman
1
When
lilacs last in the dooryard bloom’d,
And the great star early droop’d in the western sky in the night,
I mourn’d, and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
And the great star early droop’d in the western sky in the night,
I mourn’d, and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
Ever-returning
spring, trinity sure to me you bring,
Lilac blooming perennial and drooping star in the west, 5
And thought of him I love.
Lilac blooming perennial and drooping star in the west, 5
And thought of him I love.
2
O powerful
western fallen star!
O shades of night—O moody, tearful night!
O great star disappear’d—O the black murk that hides the star!
O cruel hands that hold me powerless—O helpless soul of me! 10
O harsh surrounding cloud that will not free my soul.
O shades of night—O moody, tearful night!
O great star disappear’d—O the black murk that hides the star!
O cruel hands that hold me powerless—O helpless soul of me! 10
O harsh surrounding cloud that will not free my soul.
3
In the
dooryard fronting an old farm-house near the white-wash’d palings,
Stands the lilac-bush tall-growing with heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
With many a pointed blossom rising delicate, with the perfume strong I love,
With every leaf a miracle—and from this bush in the dooryard, 15
With delicate-color’d blossoms and heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
A sprig with its flower I break.
Stands the lilac-bush tall-growing with heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
With many a pointed blossom rising delicate, with the perfume strong I love,
With every leaf a miracle—and from this bush in the dooryard, 15
With delicate-color’d blossoms and heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
A sprig with its flower I break.
4
In the
swamp in secluded recesses,
A shy and hidden bird is warbling a song.
A shy and hidden bird is warbling a song.
Solitary
the thrush, 20
The hermit withdrawn to himself, avoiding the settlements,
Sings by himself a song.
The hermit withdrawn to himself, avoiding the settlements,
Sings by himself a song.
Song of
the bleeding throat,
Death’s outlet song of life (for well dear brother I know,
If thou wast not granted to sing thou would’st surely die). 25
Death’s outlet song of life (for well dear brother I know,
If thou wast not granted to sing thou would’st surely die). 25
5
Over the
breast of the spring, the land, amid cities,
Amid lanes and through old woods, where lately the violets peep’d from the ground, spotting the gray débris,
Amid the grass in the fields each side of the lanes, passing the endless grass,
Passing the yellow-spear’d wheat, every grain from its shroud in the dark-brown fields uprisen,
Passing the apple-tree blows of white and pink in the orchards, 30
Carrying a corpse to where it shall rest in the grave,
Night and day journeys a coffin.
Amid lanes and through old woods, where lately the violets peep’d from the ground, spotting the gray débris,
Amid the grass in the fields each side of the lanes, passing the endless grass,
Passing the yellow-spear’d wheat, every grain from its shroud in the dark-brown fields uprisen,
Passing the apple-tree blows of white and pink in the orchards, 30
Carrying a corpse to where it shall rest in the grave,
Night and day journeys a coffin.
6
Coffin
that passes through lanes and streets,
Through day and night with the great cloud darkening the land,
With the pomp of the inloop’d flags with the cities draped in black, 35
With the show of the States themselves as of crape-veil’d women standing,
With processions long and winding and the flambeaus of the night,
With the countless torches lit, with the silent sea of faces and the unbared heads,
With the waiting depot, the arriving coffin, and the sombre faces,
With dirges through the night, with the thousand voices rising strong and solemn, 40
With all the mournful voices of the dirges pour’d around the coffin,
The dim-lit churches and the shuddering organs—where amid these you journey,
With the tolling tolling bells’ perpetual clang,
Here, coffin that slowly passes,
I give you my sprig of lilac. 45
Through day and night with the great cloud darkening the land,
With the pomp of the inloop’d flags with the cities draped in black, 35
With the show of the States themselves as of crape-veil’d women standing,
With processions long and winding and the flambeaus of the night,
With the countless torches lit, with the silent sea of faces and the unbared heads,
With the waiting depot, the arriving coffin, and the sombre faces,
With dirges through the night, with the thousand voices rising strong and solemn, 40
With all the mournful voices of the dirges pour’d around the coffin,
The dim-lit churches and the shuddering organs—where amid these you journey,
With the tolling tolling bells’ perpetual clang,
Here, coffin that slowly passes,
I give you my sprig of lilac. 45
7
(Nor for
you, for one alone,
Blossoms and branches green to coffins all I bring,
For fresh as the morning, thus would I chant a song for you
O sane and sacred death.
Blossoms and branches green to coffins all I bring,
For fresh as the morning, thus would I chant a song for you
O sane and sacred death.
All over
bouquets of roses, 50
O death, I cover you over with roses and early lilies,
But mostly and now the lilac that blooms the first,
Copious I break, I break the sprigs from the bushes,
With loaded arms I come, pouring for you,
For you and the coffins all of you O death.) 55
O death, I cover you over with roses and early lilies,
But mostly and now the lilac that blooms the first,
Copious I break, I break the sprigs from the bushes,
With loaded arms I come, pouring for you,
For you and the coffins all of you O death.) 55
8
O western
orb sailing the heaven,
Now I know what you must have meant as a month since I walk’d,
As I walk’d in silence the transparent shadowy night,
As I saw you had something to tell as you bent to me night after night,
As you droop’d from the sky low down as if to my side (while the other stars all look’d on), 60
As we wander’d together the solemn night (for something I know not what kept me from sleep),
As the night advanced, and I saw on the rim of the west how full you were of woe,
As I stood on the rising ground in the breeze in the cool transparent night,
As I watch’d where you pass’d and was lost in the netherward black of the night,
As my soul in its trouble dissatisfied sank, as where you sad orb, 65
Concluded, dropt in the night, and was gone.
Now I know what you must have meant as a month since I walk’d,
As I walk’d in silence the transparent shadowy night,
As I saw you had something to tell as you bent to me night after night,
As you droop’d from the sky low down as if to my side (while the other stars all look’d on), 60
As we wander’d together the solemn night (for something I know not what kept me from sleep),
As the night advanced, and I saw on the rim of the west how full you were of woe,
As I stood on the rising ground in the breeze in the cool transparent night,
As I watch’d where you pass’d and was lost in the netherward black of the night,
As my soul in its trouble dissatisfied sank, as where you sad orb, 65
Concluded, dropt in the night, and was gone.
9
Sing on
there in the swamp,
O singer bashful and tender, I hear your notes, I hear your call,
I hear, I come presently, I understand you,
But a moment I linger, for the lustrous star has detain’d me, 70
The star my departing comrade holds and detains me.
O singer bashful and tender, I hear your notes, I hear your call,
I hear, I come presently, I understand you,
But a moment I linger, for the lustrous star has detain’d me, 70
The star my departing comrade holds and detains me.
10
O how
shall I warble myself for the dead one there I loved?
And how shall I deck my song for the large sweet soul that has gone?
And what shall my perfume be for the grave of him I love?
And how shall I deck my song for the large sweet soul that has gone?
And what shall my perfume be for the grave of him I love?
Sea-winds
blown from east and west, 75
Blown from the Eastern sea and blown from the Western sea, till there on the prairies meeting,
These and with these and the breath of my chant,
I’ll perfume the grave of him I love.
Blown from the Eastern sea and blown from the Western sea, till there on the prairies meeting,
These and with these and the breath of my chant,
I’ll perfume the grave of him I love.
11
O what
shall I hang on the chamber walls?
And what shall the pictures be that I hang on the walls, 80
To adorn the burial-house of him I love?
And what shall the pictures be that I hang on the walls, 80
To adorn the burial-house of him I love?
Pictures
of growing spring and farms and homes,
With the Fourth-month eve at sundown, and the gray smoke lucid and bright,
With floods of the yellow gold of the gorgeous, indolent, sinking sun, burning, expanding the air,
With the fresh sweet herbage under foot, and the pale green leaves of the trees prolific, 85
In the distance the flowing glaze, the breast of the river, with a wind-dapple here and there,
With ranging hills on the banks, with many a line against the sky, and shadows,
And the city at hand with dwellings so dense, and stacks of chimneys,
And all the scenes of life and the workshops, and the workmen homeward returning.
With the Fourth-month eve at sundown, and the gray smoke lucid and bright,
With floods of the yellow gold of the gorgeous, indolent, sinking sun, burning, expanding the air,
With the fresh sweet herbage under foot, and the pale green leaves of the trees prolific, 85
In the distance the flowing glaze, the breast of the river, with a wind-dapple here and there,
With ranging hills on the banks, with many a line against the sky, and shadows,
And the city at hand with dwellings so dense, and stacks of chimneys,
And all the scenes of life and the workshops, and the workmen homeward returning.
12
Lo, body
and soul—this land, 90
My own Manhattan with spires, and the sparkling and hurrying tides, and the ships,
The varied and ample land, the South and the North in the light, Ohio’s shores and flashing Missouri,
And ever the far-spreading prairies cover’d with grass and corn.
My own Manhattan with spires, and the sparkling and hurrying tides, and the ships,
The varied and ample land, the South and the North in the light, Ohio’s shores and flashing Missouri,
And ever the far-spreading prairies cover’d with grass and corn.
Lo, the
most excellent sun so calm and haughty,
The violet and purple morn with just-felt breezes, 95
The gentle soft-born measureless light,
The miracle spreading bathing all, the fulfill’d noon,
The coming eve delicious, the welcome night and the stars,
Over my cities shining all, enveloping man and land.
The violet and purple morn with just-felt breezes, 95
The gentle soft-born measureless light,
The miracle spreading bathing all, the fulfill’d noon,
The coming eve delicious, the welcome night and the stars,
Over my cities shining all, enveloping man and land.
13
Sing on,
sing on you gray-brown bird, 100
Sing from the swamps, the recesses, pour your chant from the bushes,
Limitless out of the dusk, out of the cedars and pines.
Sing on dearest brother, warble your reedy song,
Loud human song, with voice of uttermost woe.
O liquid and free and tender! 105
O wild and loose to my soul—O wondrous singer!
You only I hear—yet the star holds me (but will soon depart),
Yet the lilac with mastering odor holds me.
Sing from the swamps, the recesses, pour your chant from the bushes,
Limitless out of the dusk, out of the cedars and pines.
Sing on dearest brother, warble your reedy song,
Loud human song, with voice of uttermost woe.
O liquid and free and tender! 105
O wild and loose to my soul—O wondrous singer!
You only I hear—yet the star holds me (but will soon depart),
Yet the lilac with mastering odor holds me.
14
Now while
I sat in the day and look’d forth,
In the close of the day with its light and the fields of spring, and the farmers preparing their crops, 110
In the large unconscious scenery of my land with its lakes and forests,
In the heavenly aerial beauty (after the perturb’d winds and the storms),
Under the arching heavens of the afternoon swift passing, and the voices of children and women,
The many-moving sea-tides, and I saw the ships how they sail’d,
And the summer approaching with richness, and the fields all busy with labor, 115
And the infinite separate houses, how they all went on, each with its meals and minutia of daily usages,
And the streets how their throbbings throbb’d, and the cities pent—lo, then and there,
Falling upon them all and among them all, enveloping me with the rest,
Appear’d the cloud, appear’d the long black trail,
And I knew death, its thought, and the sacred knowledge of death. 120
In the close of the day with its light and the fields of spring, and the farmers preparing their crops, 110
In the large unconscious scenery of my land with its lakes and forests,
In the heavenly aerial beauty (after the perturb’d winds and the storms),
Under the arching heavens of the afternoon swift passing, and the voices of children and women,
The many-moving sea-tides, and I saw the ships how they sail’d,
And the summer approaching with richness, and the fields all busy with labor, 115
And the infinite separate houses, how they all went on, each with its meals and minutia of daily usages,
And the streets how their throbbings throbb’d, and the cities pent—lo, then and there,
Falling upon them all and among them all, enveloping me with the rest,
Appear’d the cloud, appear’d the long black trail,
And I knew death, its thought, and the sacred knowledge of death. 120
Then with
the knowledge of death as walking one side of me,
And the thought of death close-walking the other side of me,
And I in the middle as with companions, and as holding the hands of companions,
I fled forth to the hiding receiving night that talks not,
Down to the shores of the water, the path by the swamp in the dimness, 125
To the solemn shadowy cedars and ghostly pines so still.
And the singer so shy to the rest receiv’d me,
The gray-brown bird I know receiv’d us comrades three,
And he sang the carol of death, and a verse for him I love.
And the thought of death close-walking the other side of me,
And I in the middle as with companions, and as holding the hands of companions,
I fled forth to the hiding receiving night that talks not,
Down to the shores of the water, the path by the swamp in the dimness, 125
To the solemn shadowy cedars and ghostly pines so still.
And the singer so shy to the rest receiv’d me,
The gray-brown bird I know receiv’d us comrades three,
And he sang the carol of death, and a verse for him I love.
From deep
secluded recesses, 130
From the fragrant cedars and the ghostly pines so still,
Came the carol of the bird.
From the fragrant cedars and the ghostly pines so still,
Came the carol of the bird.
And the
charm of the carol rapt me,
As I held as if by their hands my comrades in the night,
And the voice of my spirit tallied the song of the bird. 135
As I held as if by their hands my comrades in the night,
And the voice of my spirit tallied the song of the bird. 135
Come
lovely and soothing death,
Undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving,
In the day, in the night, to all, to each,
Sooner or later delicate death.
Undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving,
In the day, in the night, to all, to each,
Sooner or later delicate death.
Prais’d be
the fathomless universe, 140
For life and joy, and for objects and knowledge curious,
And for love, sweet love—but praise! praise!
For the sure-enwinding arms of cool-enfolding death.
For life and joy, and for objects and knowledge curious,
And for love, sweet love—but praise! praise!
For the sure-enwinding arms of cool-enfolding death.
Dark
mother always gliding near with soft feet,
Have none chanted for thee a chant of fullest welcome? 145
Then I chant it for thee, I glorify thee above all,
I bring thee a song that when thou must indeed come, come unfalteringly.
Have none chanted for thee a chant of fullest welcome? 145
Then I chant it for thee, I glorify thee above all,
I bring thee a song that when thou must indeed come, come unfalteringly.
Approach
strong deliveress,
When it is so, when thou hast taken them I joyously sing the dead,
Lost in the loving floating ocean of thee, 150
Laved in the flood of thy bliss O death.
When it is so, when thou hast taken them I joyously sing the dead,
Lost in the loving floating ocean of thee, 150
Laved in the flood of thy bliss O death.
From me to
thee glad serenades,
Dances for thee I propose saluting thee, adornments and feastings for thee,
And the sights of the open landscape and the high-spread sky are fitting,
And life and the fields, and the huge and thoughtful night. 155
Dances for thee I propose saluting thee, adornments and feastings for thee,
And the sights of the open landscape and the high-spread sky are fitting,
And life and the fields, and the huge and thoughtful night. 155
The night
in silence under many a star,
The ocean shore and the husky whispering wave whose voice I know,
And the soul turning to thee O vast and well-veil’d death,
And the body gratefully nestling close to thee.
The ocean shore and the husky whispering wave whose voice I know,
And the soul turning to thee O vast and well-veil’d death,
And the body gratefully nestling close to thee.
Over the
tree-tops I float thee a song, 160
Over the rising and sinking waves, over the myriad fields and the prairies wide,
Over the dense-pack’d cities all and the teeming wharves and ways,
I float this carol with joy, with joy to thee O death.
Over the rising and sinking waves, over the myriad fields and the prairies wide,
Over the dense-pack’d cities all and the teeming wharves and ways,
I float this carol with joy, with joy to thee O death.
15
To the
tally of my soul,
Loud and strong kept up the gray-brown bird, 165
With pure deliberate notes spreading filling the night.
Loud and strong kept up the gray-brown bird, 165
With pure deliberate notes spreading filling the night.
Loud in
the pines and cedars dim,
Clear in the freshness moist and the swamp perfume,
And I with my comrades there in the night.
Clear in the freshness moist and the swamp perfume,
And I with my comrades there in the night.
While my
sight that was bound in my eyes
unclosed, 170
As to long panoramas of visions.
As to long panoramas of visions.
And I saw
askant the armies,
I saw as in noiseless dreams hundreds of battle-flags,
Borne through the smoke of the battles and pierc’d with missiles I saw them,
And carried hither and yon through the smoke, and torn and bloody, 175
And at last but a few shreds left on the staffs (and all in silence),
And the staffs all splinter’d and broken.
I saw as in noiseless dreams hundreds of battle-flags,
Borne through the smoke of the battles and pierc’d with missiles I saw them,
And carried hither and yon through the smoke, and torn and bloody, 175
And at last but a few shreds left on the staffs (and all in silence),
And the staffs all splinter’d and broken.
I saw
battle-corpses, myriads of them,
And the white skeletons of young men, I saw them,
I saw the débris and débris of all the slain soldiers of the war, 180
But I saw they were not as was thought,
They themselves were fully at rest, they suffer’d not,
The living remain’d and suffer’d, the mother suffer’d,
And the wife and the child and the musing comrade suffer’d,
And the armies that remain’d suffer’d. 185
And the white skeletons of young men, I saw them,
I saw the débris and débris of all the slain soldiers of the war, 180
But I saw they were not as was thought,
They themselves were fully at rest, they suffer’d not,
The living remain’d and suffer’d, the mother suffer’d,
And the wife and the child and the musing comrade suffer’d,
And the armies that remain’d suffer’d. 185
16
Passing
the visions, passing the night,
Passing, unloosing the hold of my comrades’ hands,
Passing the song of the hermit bird and the tallying song of my soul,
Victorious song, death’s outlet song, yet varying ever-altering song,
As low and wailing, yet clear the notes, rising and falling, flooding the night, 190
Sadly sinking and fainting, as warning and warning, and yet again bursting with joy,
Covering the earth and filling the spread of the heaven,
As that powerful psalm in the night I heard from recesses,
Passing, I leave thee lilac with heart-shaped leaves,
I leave thee there in the door-yard, blooming, returning with spring. 195
Passing, unloosing the hold of my comrades’ hands,
Passing the song of the hermit bird and the tallying song of my soul,
Victorious song, death’s outlet song, yet varying ever-altering song,
As low and wailing, yet clear the notes, rising and falling, flooding the night, 190
Sadly sinking and fainting, as warning and warning, and yet again bursting with joy,
Covering the earth and filling the spread of the heaven,
As that powerful psalm in the night I heard from recesses,
Passing, I leave thee lilac with heart-shaped leaves,
I leave thee there in the door-yard, blooming, returning with spring. 195
I cease
from my song for thee,
From my gaze on thee in the west, fronting the west, communing with thee,
O comrade lustrous with silver face in the night.
From my gaze on thee in the west, fronting the west, communing with thee,
O comrade lustrous with silver face in the night.
Yet each
to keep and all, retrievements out of the night,
The song, the wondrous chant of the gray-brown bird, 200
And the tallying chant, the echo arous’d in my soul,
With the lustrous and drooping star with the countenance full of woe,
With the holders holding my hand nearing the call of the bird,
Comrades mine and I in the midst, and their memory ever to keep, for the dead I loved so well,
For the sweetest, wisest soul of all my days and lands—and this for his dear sake, 205
Lilac and star and bird twined with the chant of my soul,
There in the fragrant pines and the cedars dusk and dim.
The song, the wondrous chant of the gray-brown bird, 200
And the tallying chant, the echo arous’d in my soul,
With the lustrous and drooping star with the countenance full of woe,
With the holders holding my hand nearing the call of the bird,
Comrades mine and I in the midst, and their memory ever to keep, for the dead I loved so well,
For the sweetest, wisest soul of all my days and lands—and this for his dear sake, 205
Lilac and star and bird twined with the chant of my soul,
There in the fragrant pines and the cedars dusk and dim.
Grief
.......The poem expresses intense grief at
the loss of Abraham Lincoln. After describing the fallen president as "the
great star that early droop'd in the western sky," the poem's speaker
looks at the sky and says,
O shades of night—O moody, tearful
night!
O great star disappear'd—O the black murk that hides the star!
Cruel hands that hold me powerless—O helpless soul of me!
O harsh surrounding cloud that will not free my soul. (lines 8-11)
O great star disappear'd—O the black murk that hides the star!
Cruel hands that hold me powerless—O helpless soul of me!
O harsh surrounding cloud that will not free my soul. (lines 8-11)
Acceptance of Death
.......After expressing his sadness at the
death of Lincoln and his distress at the vision of mangled corpses on the Civil
War battlefield, the speaker concludes that death is actually a friend; it ends
suffering. Only the living know affliction and misery.
Come lovely and soothing death,
Undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving,
In the day, in the night, to all, to each,
Sooner or later delicate death.
Undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving,
In the day, in the night, to all, to each,
Sooner or later delicate death.
Prais'd be
the fathomless universe,
For life and joy, and for objects and knowledge curious,
And for love, sweet love -- but praise! praise! praise!
For the sure-enwinding arms of cool-enfolding death. (lines 136-143)
For life and joy, and for objects and knowledge curious,
And for love, sweet love -- but praise! praise! praise!
For the sure-enwinding arms of cool-enfolding death. (lines 136-143)
Rebirth
.......Although the speaker says he will
mourn the death of Lincoln every April, he also says he will celebrate the
rebirth of Lincoln's spirit at the same time. This rebirth will coincide with
the rebirth of nature in sprouting plants and blooming flowers. Even the sprig
that the speaker broke off the lilac bush--a symbol of Lincoln's broken body
after a bullet entered his skull--will grow back and perfume the spring
air.
Reunification
.......Thanks in large part to Lincoln's
leadership, the Union defeated the Confederacy, and the North and South once
again became the United States after the war. Whitman seems to allude to the
reunification when he says that among the pictures he will hang on the wall of
Lincoln's tomb is one of "the South and the North in the light" (line
92). This light, the speaker says, is a "miracle spreading bathing all . .
. enveloping man and land." In other words, after the darkness of war, the
South and the North emerged into the light of peace as one nation. The speaker
also alludes to the unification of East and West when he says,
Sea-winds blown from east and
west,
Blown from the Eastern sea and blown from the Western sea, till there on the prairies meeting,
These and with these and the breath of my chant,
I’ll perfume the grave of him I love.
Blown from the Eastern sea and blown from the Western sea, till there on the prairies meeting,
These and with these and the breath of my chant,
I’ll perfume the grave of him I love.
.
Style and Literary Devices
Style and Literary Devices
.......To help him express the depth of his
intense feeling for his subject, Whitman uses first-person point of view, vivid
sensory language, symbols, and frequent repetition of key words and phrases.
Also, rather than strait-jacketing his thoughts into an established metrical
pattern with fixed line lengths and stress patterns, he casts them in free
verse, allowing his content and the power of his passion to dictate line length
and rhythm. Finally, to give the elegy a poetic cast, he uses the traditional
devices of inversion of word order, internal rhyme, and archaisms. Let us look
at each of these devices.
First-Person
Point of View
.......Whitman believed it was incumbent
upon a poet to reveal his feelings, his personality, in his work. Consequently,
he uses I, me, and my in his poetry to present his
reactions and responses to everything from the activity of a spider ("A Noiseless Patient Spider") and the lecture
of a scientist ("When I Heard the Learn'd Astronomer") to the
death of Lincoln in "Lilacs." This approach—along with his use of
free verse, which has no metrical pattern and therefore somewhat resembles
everyday conversation—helps him to establish rapport with the reader. His poem
thus becomes like a signed, handwritten letter to the reader instead of an
impersonal form letter.
Sensory
Language
.......Whitman creates strong, almost
palpable, imagery, as in the following passage:
And what shall the pictures be that
I hang on the walls,
To adorn the burial-house of him I love? (line 80-81)
To adorn the burial-house of him I love? (line 80-81)
Pictures
of growing spring, and farms, and homes,
With the Fourth-month eve at sundown, and the gray smoke lucid and bright,
With floods of the yellow gold of the gorgeous, indolent, sinking sun, burning, expanding the air;
With the fresh sweet herbage under foot, and the pale green leaves of the trees prolific;
In the distance the flowing glaze, the breast of the river, with a wind-dapple here and there;
With ranging hills on the banks, with many a line against the sky, and shadows;
And the city at hand, with dwellings so dense, and stacks of chimneys,
And all the scenes of life, and the workshops, and the workmen homeward returning. (lines 82-89)
With the Fourth-month eve at sundown, and the gray smoke lucid and bright,
With floods of the yellow gold of the gorgeous, indolent, sinking sun, burning, expanding the air;
With the fresh sweet herbage under foot, and the pale green leaves of the trees prolific;
In the distance the flowing glaze, the breast of the river, with a wind-dapple here and there;
With ranging hills on the banks, with many a line against the sky, and shadows;
And the city at hand, with dwellings so dense, and stacks of chimneys,
And all the scenes of life, and the workshops, and the workmen homeward returning. (lines 82-89)
.......Whitman's use of symbols enables him
to express his feelings succinctly.
.......Consider, for example, the "great star," which symbolizes Lincoln. (The star the speaker sees is actually the planet Venus.) A star is a source of light. So was Lincoln. At a time when the evils of slavery and war darkened the land, Lincoln illumined it with his leadership. Slavery was abolished. The North and South were reunited.
.......Consider also the sprig of lilac that the narrator breaks from the bush: "A sprig, with its flower, I break" (line 17). This sprig represents Lincoln's broken body after a bullet entered his skull and mortally wounded him. But it also represents the rebirth of Lincoln's spirit, as well as the rebirth of the spirit of the soldiers who fell in the Civil War; for the sprig will grow back the following spring and perfume the air once again.
.......The leaves of the lilac bush itself are symbols. Shaped like a heart, they represent love and compassion.
.......Consider, for example, the "great star," which symbolizes Lincoln. (The star the speaker sees is actually the planet Venus.) A star is a source of light. So was Lincoln. At a time when the evils of slavery and war darkened the land, Lincoln illumined it with his leadership. Slavery was abolished. The North and South were reunited.
.......Consider also the sprig of lilac that the narrator breaks from the bush: "A sprig, with its flower, I break" (line 17). This sprig represents Lincoln's broken body after a bullet entered his skull and mortally wounded him. But it also represents the rebirth of Lincoln's spirit, as well as the rebirth of the spirit of the soldiers who fell in the Civil War; for the sprig will grow back the following spring and perfume the air once again.
.......The leaves of the lilac bush itself are symbols. Shaped like a heart, they represent love and compassion.
Repetition
(Anaphora)
.......Whitman frequently repeats words or
groups of words in successive phrases or clauses (a figure of speech known as
anaphora) to impart rhythm and musicality and to expand on an idea. Here are
examples:
O powerful, western, fallen star!
O shades of night! O moody, tearful night!
O great star disappear’d! O the black murk that hides the star!
O cruel hands that hold me powerless! O helpless soul of me!
O harsh surrounding cloud, that will not free my soul! (lines 7-11)
O shades of night! O moody, tearful night!
O great star disappear’d! O the black murk that hides the star!
O cruel hands that hold me powerless! O helpless soul of me!
O harsh surrounding cloud, that will not free my soul! (lines 7-11)
Coffin
that passes through lanes and streets,
Through day and night, with the great cloud darkening the land,
With the pomp of the inloop’d flags, with the cities draped in black,
With the show of the States themselves, as of crape-veil’d women, standing,
With processions long and winding, and the flambeaus of the night,
With the countless torches lit—with the silent sea of faces, and the unbared heads,
With the waiting depot, the arriving coffin, and the sombre faces,
With dirges through the night, with the thousand voices rising strong and solemn;
With all the mournful voices of the dirges, pour’d around the coffin (lines 33-41)
Through day and night, with the great cloud darkening the land,
With the pomp of the inloop’d flags, with the cities draped in black,
With the show of the States themselves, as of crape-veil’d women, standing,
With processions long and winding, and the flambeaus of the night,
With the countless torches lit—with the silent sea of faces, and the unbared heads,
With the waiting depot, the arriving coffin, and the sombre faces,
With dirges through the night, with the thousand voices rising strong and solemn;
With all the mournful voices of the dirges, pour’d around the coffin (lines 33-41)
As we
walk’d up and down in the dark blue so mystic,
As we walk’d in silence the transparent shadowy night,
As I saw you had something to tell, as you bent to me night after night,
As you droop’d from the sky low down, as if to my side, (while the other stars all look’d on;)
As we wander’d together the solemn night, (for something, I know not what, kept me from sleep;)
As the night advanced, and I saw on the rim of the west, ere you went, how full you were of woe;
As I stood on the rising ground in the breeze, in the cold transparent night,
As I watch’d where you pass’d and was lost in the netherward black of the night,
As my soul, in its trouble, dissatisfied, sank, as where you, sad orb
As we walk’d in silence the transparent shadowy night,
As I saw you had something to tell, as you bent to me night after night,
As you droop’d from the sky low down, as if to my side, (while the other stars all look’d on;)
As we wander’d together the solemn night, (for something, I know not what, kept me from sleep;)
As the night advanced, and I saw on the rim of the west, ere you went, how full you were of woe;
As I stood on the rising ground in the breeze, in the cold transparent night,
As I watch’d where you pass’d and was lost in the netherward black of the night,
As my soul, in its trouble, dissatisfied, sank, as where you, sad orb
I hear
your notes—I hear your call;
I hear—I come presently—I understand you (lines 57-67)
I hear—I come presently—I understand you (lines 57-67)
.......There is no pattern of end rhyme in
the poem. However, Whitman does use internal rhyme. Here are examples:
Ever-returning.spring! trinity sure to me you bring (line 4)
And how shall I deck my song for the large sweet soul that has gone? (line 73)
till there on the prairies meeting (line 76)
Pictures of growing spring, and farms, and homes (line 82)
with many a line against the sky (line 87)
And the white skeletons of young men—I saw them (line 179)
And how shall I deck my song for the large sweet soul that has gone? (line 73)
till there on the prairies meeting (line 76)
Pictures of growing spring, and farms, and homes (line 82)
with many a line against the sky (line 87)
And the white skeletons of young men—I saw them (line 179)
Inversion
.......Another traditional poetic device
Whitman uses is inversion of word order.
with the perfume strong I love (line
14).............
Normal order: with the strong perfume that I love
Normal order: with the strong perfume that I love
A sprig,
with its flower, I break. (line 17)
Normal order: I break a sprig, with its flower
Normal order: I break a sprig, with its flower
every
grain from its shroud in the dark-brown fields uprising (line 29)
Normal order: every grain uprising from . . . .
Normal order: every grain uprising from . . . .
For life
and joy, and for objects and knowledge curious (line 141)
Normal order: curious objects and knowledge
Normal order: curious objects and knowledge
Loud in
the pines and cedars dim (line 167)
Normal order: the dim pines and cedars
Normal order: the dim pines and cedars
Archaisms
.......Still another traditional poetic
device Whitman uses is the archaism. Following are examples:
If thou wast
not gifted to sing, thou would’st surely
die. (line 25)
As the night advanced, and I saw on the rim of the west, ere you went, how full you were of woe (line 62)
As the night advanced, and I saw on the rim of the west, ere you went, how full you were of woe (line 62)
Following
are examples of figures of speech in the poem.
Alliteration
When lilacs last
in the door-yard bloom’d (line 1)
In the door-yard fronting an old farm-house, near the white-wash’d palings (line 12)
the violets peep’d from the ground, spotting the gray debris (line 27)
In the door-yard fronting an old farm-house, near the white-wash’d palings (line 12)
the violets peep’d from the ground, spotting the gray debris (line 27)
Anaphora
See the
examples under Style and Literary Devices.
Apostrophe
O western orb, sailing the
heaven!
Now I know what you must have meant, as a month since we walk’d (lines 55-56)
Now I know what you must have meant, as a month since we walk’d (lines 55-56)
Irony
Spring—a time of year that brings
joy and new life—becomes a time of death for the speaker, who says in the first
stanza, "[I] yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring."
Metaphor
the great star early droop’d in the
western sky in the night (line 2)
Comparison of Lincoln to a star
Comparison of Lincoln to a star
Dark
Mother, always gliding near, with soft feet (line 144)
Comparison of death to a mother
Comparison of death to a mother
Onomatopoeia
With the tolling, tolling bells’
perpetual clang (line 43)
Personification
Then with the knowledge of death as
walking one side of me,
And the thought of death close-walking the other side of me,
And I in the middle, as with companions, and as holding the hands of companions,
I fled forth to the hiding receiving night (lines 121-124)
And the thought of death close-walking the other side of me,
And I in the middle, as with companions, and as holding the hands of companions,
I fled forth to the hiding receiving night (lines 121-124)
In what ways is Whitman's poetry unlike that of other poets in his
century, such as Poe, Shelley, and Keats? In what ways is it
similar to their poetry?
Do you like poetry without end rhyme, such as "Lilacs," or do
you prefer poetry such as Poe's "The Raven," which has end rhyme?
Explain your answer in a short essay.
Does "gray débris" (line 27) symbolize the defeated
Confederates? Explain your answer
Write a short poem about one of the themes in "Lilacs."
Identify two figures of speech in the following lines: "As we
walk’d up and down in the dark blue so mystic, / As we walk’d in silence the
transparent shadowy night."
Which line of the poem says the wind causes ripples on the surface of
the river?
Line 13 says, in
part: "the lilac bush, tall-growing, with heart-shaped leaves of rich
green." Does this phrase refer to Lincoln? Explain your answer.
0 Comments