The New Orleans crescent., 1869-01-31
Tht sgam Orleans qrestent.
SUNDAY MORNING, JANUARY 81. 1869.
[rrom the Atlantic Monthly for February
Proud Music of the Sea-sto sm.

by WALT WHITMAN
All, from little child
Thou knowest, Soul how to me all sounds became
music; .-
NV mothers voice, in lullaby or hymn;
(lhe voice-0 tender voices-memory's LOVING
voices
Last miracle of all-O dearest mothers, sisters
voices y
The rain. The growing corn, the breeze among the
The measur'd sea wave beating on the sand,
The twittering bird, the hawks sharp scream,
The wild fowls notes at night. as flying low, MI
grating north or south,
The psalm in the country church, or mid the clus-
tering trees
The fiddler in the tavern-the gee, the longstrung
The lowing cattle, bIeating sheep-the Growing
cock at dawn.
Now airs antique and mediaval fill me!
see and hear old barpers with their harps, al
Welsh festivals;
| hear the minnesingers. and their lays OF love.
hear the minstrels, gleemen, troubadours, OF the
ieudal ages.
Above, below, the songs of current lands;
The German airs of friendship, wine and love,
The plsintve Irish ballads, merry Jgs and dan
cers-Engish waIbles, .
Chansons of france Scotch tunes-and over all,
Italis's peeriess compositions.
Across the stage with palor on her face, yet lurd
passion,
Stalks Norma, brandishing the dagger in her
hand.
J see poor crazed Lucia's eyes unnatural gleam;
Her hair down her back falls loose and disheve d.
| see where Ernani, walking the bridal garden,
| Amid perfumes of night-roses, radiant, holding
| his bride by the hand,
| Hears the Internal call, the death pledge OF the
| horn.
To crossing swords. and gray hairs barred to
Heaven, .
The clear, electric bass and baritone of the world,
| The trombone duo-Libertad forever!
From Spanish chestnut trees dense shade.
| By old and heavy convent walls, wailing song,
Song of lost love-the torch of youth and lie
Song of the dying swau-Fernando's heart is
breaking.
AwakiDg from her woes at last, retriev'd Amina
sings;
Copious as stars, ard glad as morning light, the
torrents Of her joy.
| bear the dance music Of all nations,
The waltz, (some delicious measure, lapsing
bathing me in bliss y
The bolero, to tinkliDg guitars and chatterine
castsnets.
see religious dances old and new,
| hear the sound of the Hebrew Tyre,
| see the Crusaders marching, bearing the cross
on high, TO the martial clSng of cym0als;
| hear dervishes monotOnousy chanting, inter
spersed with frantic shouts, as they spin
around, turning always towards Mecca;
see the rapt religious dances OF the Persians an'
the Arabs
Again at Eleuss, home of Ceres, 1 see the moderr
Greeks dancing,
/ hear them clspping their hands, as they benz
their bodies,
hear the metrical shutting Of their feet.
I see again the wild old Corybantsn dance, th
performers wounding each other;.
| see the Roman youth, TO the shrill sound o
fageoets, throwing and catching tnei
weapons,
AS they fall on their knees, and rise again.
1 hear from the Mussulman mosque the muezzi
calling;
I see the wcrshipers within, (nor form, nor sci
mon, argument, nor word, -
But rhspsodies, silent, devout-rsis'd glowing
hesds-ecstatic faces,)
The instruments, chants, of far of climes resuu
themselves,
The Egyptian harp of many strings.
The primitive chants of the Nile boatmen;
The sacred imperial hymns of China.
To the delicate sounds of the King, (the stricse
Or to Hindu flutes, and the frettDg twang of ii
Vina,
A band Of bayaderes.
Give me to hold all sounds, o. madly struggling
ery,) ..
Fill me with all the voices of the universe,
Endow me with their throbbings-Nature's ais
The tempests waters, winds-operas and chan
marches and dances,
Utter-pour in-fOr would take them all.