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1819–1892

Whispers of Heavenly Death

Walt Whitman

Whispers of heavenly death murmur'd I hear, Labial gossip of night, sibilant chorals, Footsteps gently ascending, mystical breezes wafted soft and low, Ripples of unseen rivers, tides 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-dimm'd sadden'd far-off star,

Appearing and disappearing. ( Some parturition rather, some solemn immortal birth; On the frontiers to eyes impenetrable, Some soul is passing over. )

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Whispers of Heavenly Death · Walt Whitman · Poetry Cove