WHISPERS of heavenly death, murmurd I hear;
Labial gossip of nightsibilant chorals;
Footsteps gently ascendingmystical breezes, wafted soft and low;
Ripples of unseen riverstides of a current, flowing, forever flowing;
(Or is it the plashing of tears? the measureless waters of human tears?)
I see, just see, skyward, great cloud-masses;
Mournfully, slowly they roll, silently swelling and mixing;
With, at times, a half-dimmd, saddend, far-off star,
Appearing and disappearing.
(Some parturition, rathersome solemn, immortal birth:
On the frontiers, to eyes impenetrable,
Some Soul is passing over.)
Whispers of Heavenly Death.
written byWalt Whitman
© Walt Whitman