A Boston Ballad, 1854. in
General
TO get betimes in Boston town, I rose this morning early;
Here’s a good place at the corner—I must stand and see the show.
Clear the way there, Jonathan!
Way for the President’s marshal! Way for the government cannon!
Way for the Federal foot and dragoons—and the apparitions copiously tumbling.
I love to look on the stars and stripes—I hope the fifes will play Yankee Doodle.
How bright shine the cutlasses of the foremost troops!
Every man holds his revolver, marching stiff through Boston town.
A fog follows—antiques of the same come limping,
Some appear wooden-legged, and some appear bandaged and bloodless.
Why this is indeed a show! It has called the dead out of the earth!
The old grave-yards of the hills have hurried to see!
Phantoms! phantoms countless by flank and rear!
Cock’d hats of mothy mould! crutches made of mist!
Arms in slings! old men leaning on young men’s shoulders!
What troubles you, Yankee phantoms? What is all this chattering of bare gums?
Does the ague convulse your limbs? Do you mistake your crutches for fire-locks, and level
them?
If you blind your eyes with tears, you will not see the President’s marshal;
If you groan such groans, you might balk the government cannon.
For shame, old maniacs! Bring down those toss’d arms, and let your white hair be;
Here gape your great grand-sons—their wives gaze at them from the windows,
See how well dress’d—see how orderly they conduct themselves.
Worse and worse! Can’t you stand it? Are you retreating?
Is this hour with the living too dead for you?
Retreat then! Pell-mell!
To your graves! Back! back to the hills, old limpers!
I do not think you belong here, anyhow.
But there is one thing that belongs here—shall I tell you what it is, gentlemen of
Boston?
I will whisper it to the Mayor—he shall send a committee to England;
They shall get a grant from the Parliament, go with a cart to the royal vault—haste!
Dig out King George’s coffin, unwrap him quick from the grave-clothes, box up his
bones
for a
journey;
Find a swift Yankee clipper—here is freight for you, black-bellied clipper,
Up with your anchor! shake out your sails! steer straight toward Boston bay.
Now call for the President’s marshal again, bring out the government cannon,
Fetch home the roarers from Congress, make another procession, guard it with foot and
dragoons.
This centre-piece for them:
Look! all orderly citizens—look from the windows, women!
The committee open the box, set up the regal ribs, glue those that will not stay,
Clap the skull on top of the ribs, and clap a crown on top of the skull.
You have got your revenge, old buster! The crown is come to its own, and more than its
own.
Stick your hands in your pockets, Jonathan—you are a made man from this day;
You are mighty cute—and here is one of your bargains.
By
Walt Whitman
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Other poems by Walt Whitman:
- 1861.
- A Boston Ballad, 1854.
- A Broadway Pageant.
- A Carol of Harvest, for 1867 .
- A Child’s Amaze.
- A Clear Midnight.
- A Farm-Picture.
- A Hand-Mirror.
- A Leaf for Hand in Hand.
- A Noiseless Patient Spider.
- A Paumanok Picture.
- A Promise to California.
- A Riddle Song.
- A Sight in Camp.
- A Song.
- A Woman Waits for Me.
- Aboard at a Ship’s Helm.
- Adieu to a Soldier.
- After the Sea-Ship.
- Ages and Ages, Returning at Intervals.
- Ah Poverties, Wincings and Sulky Retreats.
- All is Truth.
- American Feuillage.
- Among the Multitude.
- An Army Corps on the March.
- An Old Man’s Thought of School.
- Apostroph.
- Are You the New person, drawn toward Me?
- As At Thy Portals Also Death.
- As Consequent, Etc.
- As I lay with Head in your Lap, Camerado.
- As I Walk These Broad, Majestic Days.
- As I Watch’d the Ploughman Ploughing.
- As the Time Draws Nigh.
- Ashes of Soldiers.
- Assurances.
- Base of all Metaphysics, The.
- Bathed in War’s Perfume.
- Beat! Beat! Drums!
- Beautiful Women.
- Beginners.
- Beginning my Studies.
- Behavior.
- Behold this Swarthy Face.
- Bivouac on a Mountain Side.
- Brother of All, with Generous Hand.
- By Broad Potomac’s Shore.
- By the Bivouac’s Fitful Flame.
- Camps of Green.
- Carol of Occupations.
- Carol of Words.
- Cavalry Crossing a Ford.
- Centenarian’s Story, The.
- Chanting the Square Deific.
- City Dead-House, The.
- City of Orgies.
- City of Ships.
- Crossing Brooklyn Ferry.
- Dalliance of the Eagles, The.
- Darest Thou Now, O Soul.
- Debris.
- Delicate Cluster.
- Dirge for Two Veterans.
- Drum-Taps.
- Earth! my Likeness!
- Eidólons.
- Elemental Drifts.
- Europe, the 72d and 73d years of These States.
- Excelsior.
- Facing West from California’s Shores.
- Fast Anchor’d, Eternal, O Love.
- For Him I Sing.
- France, the 18th year of These States.
- From Far Dakota’s Cañons.
- From My Last Years.
- From Paumanok Starting.
- From Pent-up Aching Rivers.
- Full of Life, Now.
- Germs.
- Give me the Splendid, Silent Sun.
- Gods.
- Great are the Myths.
- Hast Never Come to Thee an Hour.
- Here the Frailest Leaves of Me.
- Here, Sailor.
- Hours Continuing Long.
- How Solemn as One by One.
- Hush’d be the Camps To-day.
- I am He that Aches with Love.
- I Hear America Singing.
- I hear it was Charged against Me.
- I saw in Louisiana a Live Oak Growing.
- I saw Old General at Bay.
- I Sing the Body Electric.
- I Sit and Look Out.
- I Thought I was not Alone.
- I was Looking a Long While.
- In Former Songs.
- In Midnight Sleep.
- In Paths Untrodden.
- In the New Garden in all the Parts.
- Indications, The.
- Inscription.
- Joy, Shipmate, Joy!
- Kosmos.
- Last Invocation, The.
- Laws for Creations.
- Lessons.
- Lo! Victress on the Peaks.
- Locations and Times.
- Long I Thought that Knowledge.
- Longings for Home.
- Look Down, Fair Moon.
- Manhattan Streets I Saunter’d, Pondering.
- Mannahatta.
- Me Imperturbe.
- Mediums.
- Miracles.
- Mother and Babe.
- My Picture-Gallery.
- Myself and Mine.
- Native Moments.
- Night on The Prairies.
- No Labor-Saving Machine.
- Not Heat Flames up and Consumes.
- Not Heaving from My Ribb’d Breast Only.
- Not My Enemies Ever Invade Me.
- Not Youth Pertains to Me.
- Now Finale to the Shore.
- O Bitter Sprig! Confession Sprig!
- O Captain! My Captain!
- O Living Always—Always Dying.
- O Star of France.
- O Sun of Real Peace.
- O You Whom I Often and Silently Come.
- Of Him I Love Day and Night.
- Of the Terrible Doubt of Appearances.
- Of the Visage of Things.
- Offerings.
- Old Ireland.
- On Journeys Through The States.
- On the Beach at Night, Alone.
- On the Beach at Night.
- One Hour to Madness and Joy.
- One Song, America, Before I Go.
- One Sweeps By.
- Or from that Sea of Time.
- Others may Praise what They Like.
- Out from Behind this Mask.
- Over the Carnage.
- Ox Tamer, The.
- Patroling Barnegat.
- Pensive on Her Dead Gazing, I Heard the Mother of
- Perfections.
- Pioneers! O Pioneers!
- Poem of Remembrance for a Girl or a Boy.
- Poets to Come.
- Portals.
- Prairie States, The.
- Prayer of Columbus.
- Primeval my Love for the Woman I Love.
- Quicksand Years.
- Reconciliation.
- Recorders Ages Hence.
- Respondez!
- Rise, O Days.
- Roaming in Thought.
- Roots and Leaves Themselves Alone.
- Runner, The.
- Says.
- Scented Herbage of My Breast.
- Ship Starting, The.
- Shut Not Your Doors, &c.
- Sleepers, The.
- So Far and So Far, and on Toward the End.
- Sobbing of The Bells, The.
- Solid, Ironical, Rolling Orb.
- Sometimes with One I Love.
- Song at Sunset.
- Song for All Seas, All Ships.
- Song of the Broad-Axe.
- Song of the Universal.
- Souvenirs of Democracy.
- Spain 1873–’74.
- Sparkles from The Wheel.
- Spirit That Form’d This Scene.
- Spirit whose Work is Done.
- Spontaneous Me.
- Starting from Paumanok.
- States!
- Still, though the One I Sing.
- Tears.
- Tests.
- That Music Always Round Me.
- There was a Child went Forth.
- These Carols.
- These, I, Singing in Spring.
- Thick-Sprinkled Bunting.
- Think of the Soul.
- This Compost.
- This Day, O Soul.
- This Dust was Once the Man.
- This Moment, Yearning and Thoughtful.
- Thou Orb Aloft Full-Dazzling.
- Thou Reader.
- Thought.
- Thoughts.
- To a Certain Civilian.
- To a Common Prostitute.
- To a foil’d European Revolutionaire.
- To a Historian.
- To a Locomotive in Winter.
- To a President.
- To a Pupil.
- To a Stranger.
- To Foreign Lands.
- To Him that was Crucified.
- To Old Age.
- To One Shortly to Die.
- To Oratists.
- To the East and to the West.
- To the Garden the World.
- To the Leaven’d Soil They Trod.
- To the Man-of-War-Bird.
- To The States.
- To Thee, Old Cause!
- To Think of Time.
- To You.
- Torch, The.
- Trickle, Drops.
- Turn, O Libertad.
- Two Rivulets.
- Unfolded Out of the Folds.
- Unnamed Lands.
- Untold Want, The.
- Vigil Strange I Kept on the Field.
- Virginia—The West.
- Visor’d.
- Voices.
- Wandering at Morn.
- Warble for Lilac-Time.
- We Two Boys Together Clinging.
- We Two—How Long We were Fool’d.
- Weave in, Weave in, My Hardy Life.
- What am I, After All?
- What Best I See In Thee.
- What General has a Good Army.
- What Place is Besieged?
- What think You I take my Pen in Hand?
- What Weeping Face.
- When I heard at the Close of the Day.
- When I heard the Learn’d Astronomer.
- When I peruse the Conquer’d Fame.
- When I read the Book.
- Whispers of Heavenly Death.
- Who is now Reading This?
- Who Learns My Lesson Complete?
- Whoever You are, Holding Me now in Hand.
- With All Thy Gifts.
- With Antecedents.
- World Below the Brine, The.
- Year of Meteors, 1859 ’60.
- Year that Trembled.
- Years of the Modern.
- You Felons on Trial in Courts.
