Poem by Walt Whitman

Leaves of Grass. 30. Whispers of Heavenly Death. 5. Yet, Yet, Ye Downcast Hours

Yet, yet, ye downcast hours, I know ye also,
Weights of lead, how ye clog and cling at my ankles,
Earth to a chamber of mourning turns—I hear the o'erweening, mocking
      voice,
Matter is conqueror—matter, triumphant only, continues onward.

Despairing cries float ceaselessly toward me,
The call of my nearest lover, putting forth, alarm'd, uncertain,
The sea I am quickly to sail, come tell me,
Come tell me where I am speeding, tell me my destination.

I understand your anguish, but I cannot help you,
I approach, hear, behold, the sad mouth, the look out of the eyes,
      your mute inquiry,
Whither I go from the bed I recline on, come tell me,—
Old age, alarm'd, uncertain—a young woman's voice, appealing to
      me for comfort;
A young man's voice, Shall I not escape?

1. Leaves of Grass. 35. Good-Bye My Fancy. 18. Sounds of the Winter
2. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 28. Old Salt Kossabone
3. Leaves of Grass. 35. Good-Bye My Fancy. 14. Interpolation Sounds
4. Leaves of Grass. 35. Good-Bye My Fancy. 23. A Persian Lesson
5. Leaves of Grass. 20. By the Roadside. 28. Offerings

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