1
HARK! some wild trumpetersome strange musician,
Hovering unseen in air, vibrates capricious tunes to-night.
I hear thee, trumpeterlistening, alert, I catch thy notes,
Now pouring, whirling like a tempest round me,
Now low, subduednow in the distance lost.
2
Come nearer, bodiless onehaply, in thee resounds
Some dead composerhaply thy pensive life
Was filld with aspirations highunformd ideals,
Waves, oceans musical, chaotically surging,
That now, ecstatic ghost, close to me bending, thy cornet echoing, pealing,
Gives out to no ones ears but minebut freely gives to mine,
That I may thee translate.
3
Blow, trumpeter, free and clearI follow thee,
While at thy liquid prelude, glad, serene,
The fretting world, the streets, the noisy hours of day, withdraw;
A holy calm descends, like dew, upon me,
I walk, in cool refreshing night, the walks of Paradise,
I scent the grass, the moist air, and the roses;
Thy song expands my numbd, imbonded spiritthou freest, launchest me,
Floating and basking upon Heavens lake.
4
Blow again, trumpeter! and for my sensuous eyes,
Bring the old pageantsshow the feudal world.
What charm thy music works!thou makest pass before me,
Ladies and cavaliers long deadbarons are in their castle hallsthe troubadours
are
singing;
Armd knights go forth to redress wrongssome in quest of the Holy Grail:
I see the tournamentI see the contestants, encased in heavy armor, seated on
stately,
champing horses;
I hear the shoutsthe sounds of blows and smiting steel:
I see the Crusaders tumultuous armiesHark! how the cymbals clang!
Lo! where the monks walk in advance, bearing the cross on high!
5
Blow again, trumpeter! and for thy theme,
Take now the enclosing theme of allthe solvent and the setting;
Love, that is pulse of allthe sustenace and the pang;
The heart of man and woman all for love;
No other theme but loveknitting, enclosing, all-diffusing love.
O, how the immortal phantoms crowd around me!
I see the vast alembic ever workingI see and know the flames that heat the world;
The glow, the blush, the beating hearts of lovers,
So blissful happy someand some so silent, dark, and nigh to death:
Love, that is all the earth to loversLove, that mocks time and space;
Love, that is day and nightLove, that is sun and moon and stars;
Love, that is crimson, sumptuous, sick with perfume;
No other words, but words of loveno other thought but Love.
6
Blow again, trumpeterconjure wars Wild alarums.
Swift to thy spell, a shuddering hum like distant thunder rolls;
Lo! where the armd men hastenLo! mid the clouds of dust, the glint of
bayonets;
I see the grime-faced cannoniersI mark the rosy flash amid the smokeI hear the
cracking of the guns:
Nor war alonethy fearful music-song, wild player, brings every sight of fear,
The deeds of ruthless brigandsrapine, murderI hear the cries for help!
I see ships foundering at seaI behold on deck, and below deck, the terrible
tableaux.
7
O trumpeter! methinks I am myself the instrument thou playest!
Thou meltst my heart, my brainthou movest, drawest, changest them, at will:
And now thy sullen notes send darkness through me;
Thou takest away all cheering lightall hope:
I see the enslaved, the overthrown, the hurt, the opprest of the whole earth;
I feel the measureless shame and humiliation of my raceit becomes all mine;
Mine too the revenges of humanitythe wrongs of agesbaffled feuds and hatreds;
Utter defeat upon me weighsall lost! the foe victorious!
(Yet mid the ruins Pride colossal stands, unshaken to the last;
Endurance, resolution, to the last.)
8
Now, trumpeter, for thy close,
Vouchsafe a higher strain than any yet;
Sing to my soulrenew its languishing faith and hope;
Rouse up my slow beliefgive me some vision of the future;
Give me, for once, its prophecy and joy.
O glad, exulting, culminating song!
A vigor more than earths is in thy notes!
Marches of victoryman disenthralldthe conqueror at last!
Hymns to the universal God, from universal Manall joy!
A reborn race appearsa perfect World, all joy!
Women and Men, in wisdom, innocence and healthall joy!
Riotous, laughing bacchanals, filld with joy!
War, sorrow, suffering goneThe rank earth purgednothing but joy left!
The ocean filld with joythe atmosphere all joy!
Joy! Joy! in freedom, worship, love! Joy in the ecstacy of life!
Enough to merely be! Enough to breathe!
Joy! Joy! all over Joy!
Mystic Trumpeter, The.
written byWalt Whitman
© Walt Whitman