When I Heard at the Close of the Day by Walt Whitman: Illustrated

I wanted to experience more of the Love Walt Whitman had for his "my dear friend my lover". When I take my time and soak in his words, I feel so deeply moved by the love and affection he had for his friend and lover. I was discussing Whitman with a friend I've made through AOM the other day. In our chat, we talked about the poem I used in my homage to Whitman. (link) My Friend described so beautifully the affect and influence Whitman has had on us. Here is what he said:

"It is amazing to me what the human body can do. Yes, the wrestlers, the firemen, the farmers, the lifeguards, on and on in so many ways, perform their tasks each day without much fanfare. The mind inside that human frame continues to develop unbelievable solutions to all types of challenges. And most importantly, the soul connects us to one another as brothers and sisters of humanity.

Somehow Uncle Walt brings it all into focus. He wants us to celebrate our humanness. And I also think he wants us to practice the very best we can do to alleviate suffering of any kind."

~Quote from a Friend

Today I am using another poem by Whitman to illustrate. In this poem, Whitman talks about all the good and satisfying things in his life. He mentions his fame and acclaim, his partying, his success, his excellent health, his ecstatic communion with nature but they all pale in comparison with the ecstasy of being with his friend and lover.

plaudits = applause, accolades

~*~

When I Heard at the Close of the Day

by Walt Whitman

"When I heard at the close of the day how my name had been receiv’d with plaudits in the capitol, still it was not a happy night for me that follow’d, 

And else when I carous’d, or when my plans were accomplish’d, still I was not happy, 

But the day when I rose at dawn from the bed of perfect health, refresh’d, singing, inhaling the ripe breath of autumn, 

When I saw the full moon in the west grow pale and disappear in the morning light, 

When I wander’d alone over the beach, and undressing bathed, laughing with the cool waters, and saw the sun rise, 

And when I thought how my dear friend my lover was on his way coming, O then I was happy, 

O then each breath tasted sweeter, and all that day my food nourish’d me more, and the beautiful day pass’d well, 

And the next came with equal joy, and with the next at evening came my friend, 

And that night while all was still I heard the waters roll slowly continually up the shores, 

I heard the hissing rustle of the liquid and sands as directed to me whispering to congratulate me, 

For the one I love most lay sleeping by me under the same cover in the cool night, 

In the stillness in the autumn moonbeams his face was inclined toward me, 

And his arm lay lightly around my breast – and that night I was happy." 

Walt Whitman's "I Sing the Body Electric" Illustrated by AOM

Walt Whitman

To honor this Great Man on his 200th birthday

AOM pays homage by illustrating this section from:

I Sing the Body Electric

by Walt Whitman

Album: Leaves of Grass

(note: "balks account" means "cannot be fully described or defined or explained)

2.
The love of the body of man or woman balks account, the body itself balks account,
That of the male is perfect, and that of the female is perfect.

The expression of the face balks account,

But the expression of a well-made man appears not only in his face,
It is in his limbs and joints also, it is curiously in the joints of his hips and wrists,

It is in his walk, the carriage of his neck, the flex of his waist and knees, dress does not hide him,

The strong sweet quality he has strikes through the cotton and broadcloth,

To see him pass conveys as much as the best poem, perhaps more,

You linger to see his back, and the back of his neck and shoulder-side.

The sprawl and fullness of babes, the bosoms and heads of women, the folds of their dress, their style as we pass in the street, the contour of their shape downwards,

The swimmer naked in the swimming-bath, seen as he swims through the transparent green-shine, 

or lies with his face up and rolls silently to and from the heave of the water,

The bending forward and backward of rowers in row-boats, 

The Rowers by Thomas Eakins

(WW's Friend who painted his portrait) 

the horse-man in his saddle,

Girls, mothers, house-keepers, in all their performances,
The group of laborers seated at noon-time with their open
dinner-kettles, and their wives waiting,
The female soothing a child, the farmer's daughter in the garden or cow-yard,

The young fellow hoeing corn, 

the sleigh-driver driving his six horses through the crowd,

The wrestle of wrestlers, two apprentice-boys, quite grown, lusty, good-natured, native-born, out on the vacant lot at sundown after work,
The coats and caps thrown down, the embrace of love and resistance,

The upper-hold and under-hold, the hair rumpled over and blinding the eyes;

Wrestlers by Thomas Eakins

(WW's Friend who painted his portrait)

The march of firemen in their own costumes, the play of masculine muscle through clean-setting trowsers and waist-straps,

The slow return from the fire, the pause when the bell strikes
suddenly again, and the listening on the alert,
The natural, perfect, varied attitudes, the bent head, the curv'd neck and the counting;

Such-like I love—I loosen myself, pass freely, am at the mother's breast with the little child,
Swim with the swimmers, wrestle with wrestlers, march in line with the firemen, and pause, listen, count.