25 September 2007

trinity sure to me you bring


When lilacs last in the door-yard 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.

O ever-returning spring! trinity sure to me you bring;
Lilac blooming perennial and drooping star in the west,
And thought of him I love.

That's only the first verse of this famous poem by Walt Whitman. The scholars know it is an elegy for President Lincoln, but I know it is very beautiful. Read it all if you wish.

There is the dependable rhythm of earth. Rhythm makes fine poetry, not life and death - no, only emptiness and fullness, and both the same.

1 comment:

John said...

A welcome return of the muse, and welcome return to Whitman—even a sampling this small enough convey his majestic, asynchronous rhythm, and time-defying immortality—for me Whitman never grows old.