by Whitman · Cluster: Flowers · Spring · Garden
Abstract
Anticipates spring melting winter’s icy ligatures, a thousand forms rising from dead clods as the annual play returns.
Connections
Topoi: Eternal Return Motifs: Spring, Winter, Flowers, Birds, Grave, Grass Leaves of Grass Themes & Concepts: Immortality Forms & Genres: Lyric
Testo integrale / Full text
Cluster: SANDS AT SEVENTY
Soon shall the winter’s foil be here;
Soon shall these icy ligatures unbind and melt—A little while,
And air, soil, wave, suffused shall be in softness, bloom and
growth—a thousand forms shall rise
From these dead clods and chills as from low burial graves.
Thine eyes, ears—all thy best attributes—all that takes cognizance
of natural beauty,
Shall wake and fill. Thou shalt perceive the simple shows, the
delicate miracles of earth,
Dandelions, clover, the emerald grass, the early scents and flowers,
The arbutus under foot, the willow’s yellow-green, the blossoming
plum and cherry;
With these the robin, lark and thrush, singing their songs—the
flitting bluebird;
For such the scenes the annual play brings on.