Walt Whitman - A Boston Ballad [1854]

To get betimes in Boston town I rose this morning early,
Here's a good place at the corner, I must stand and see the show.

 

Clear the way there Jonathan!
Way for the President's marshal--way for the government cannon!
Way for the Federal foot and dragoons, (and the apparitions
copiously tumbling.)

 

I love to look on the Stars and Stripes, I hope the fifes will play
Yankee Doodle.
How bright shine the cutlasses of the foremost troops!
Every man holds his revolver, marching stiff through Boston town.

 

A fog follows, antiques of the same come limping,
Some appear wooden-legged, and some appear bandaged and bloodless.

 

Why this is indeed a show--it has called the dead out of the earth!
The old graveyards of the hills have hurried to see!
Phantoms! phantoms countless by flank and rear!
Cock'd hats of mothy mould--crutches made of mist!
Arms in slings--old men leaning on young men's shoulders.

 

What troubles you Yankee phantoms? what is all this chattering of
bare gums?
Does the ague convulse your limbs? do you mistake your crutches for
firelocks and level them?

 

If you blind your eyes with tears you will not see the President's marshal,
If you groan such groans you might balk the government cannon.

 

For shame old maniacs--bring down those toss'd arms, and let your
white hair be,
Here gape your great grandsons, their wives gaze at them from the windows,
See how well dress'd, see how orderly they conduct themselves.

 

Worse and worse--can't you stand it? are you retreating?
Is this hour with the living too dead for you?

 

Retreat then--pell-mell!
To your graves--back--back to the hills old limpers!
I do not think you belong here anyhow.

 

But there is one thing that belongs here--shall I tell you what it
is, gentlemen of Boston?

 

I will whisper it to the Mayor, he shall send a committee to England,
They shall get a grant from the Parliament, go with a cart to the
royal vault,
Dig out King George's coffin, unwrap him quick from the
graveclothes, box up his bones for a journey,
Find a swift Yankee clipper--here is freight for you, black-bellied clipper,
Up with your anchor--shake out your sails--steer straight toward
Boston bay.

 

Now call for the President's marshal again, bring out the government cannon,
Fetch home the roarers from Congress, make another procession,
guard it with foot and dragoons.

 

This centre-piece for them;
Look, all orderly citizens--look from the windows, women!

 

The committee open the box, set up the regal ribs, glue those that
will not stay,
Clap the skull on top of the ribs, and clap a crown on top of the skull.
You have got your revenge, old buster--the crown is come to its own,
and more than its own.

 

Stick your hands in your pockets, Jonathan--you are a made man from
this day,
You are mighty cute--and here is one of your bargains.

Submited by

Friday, April 8, 2011 - 23:59

Poesia Consagrada :

No votes yet

Walt Whitman

Walt Whitman's picture
Offline
Title: Membro
Last seen: 12 years 51 weeks ago
Joined: 04/08/2011
Posts:
Points: 849

Add comment

Login to post comments

other contents of Walt Whitman

Topic Title Replies Views Last Postsort icon Language
Poesia Consagrada/General Walt Whitman Poems : Tests 0 1.903 04/12/2011 - 23:24 English
Poesia Consagrada/General Walt Whitman Poems : Tears 0 2.157 04/12/2011 - 23:18 English
Poesia Consagrada/General Walt Whitman Poems : Starting from Paumanok 0 2.963 04/12/2011 - 23:14 English
Poesia Consagrada/General Walt Whitman Poems : Spontaneous Me 0 2.445 04/12/2011 - 23:06 English
Poesia Consagrada/General Walt Whitman Poems : Spirit Whose Work Is Done [Washington City, 1865] 0 2.350 04/12/2011 - 23:03 English
Poesia Consagrada/General Walt Whitman Poems : Spirit That Form'd This Scene 0 1.660 04/12/2011 - 23:02 English
Poesia Consagrada/General Walt Whitman Poems : Sparkles from the Wheel 0 1.734 04/12/2011 - 23:01 English
Poesia Consagrada/General Walt Whitman Poems : Spain, 1873-74 0 2.422 04/12/2011 - 22:57 English
Poesia Consagrada/General Walt Whitman Poems : Soon Shall the Winter's Foil Be Here 0 1.765 04/12/2011 - 22:55 English
Poesia Consagrada/General Walt Whitman Poems : Song of the Universal 0 1.833 04/12/2011 - 22:51 English
Poesia Consagrada/General Walt Whitman Poems : A Song of the Rolling Earth 0 1.551 04/12/2011 - 22:50 English
Poesia Consagrada/General Walt Whitman Poems : Song of the Redwood-Tree 0 2.291 04/12/2011 - 22:48 English
Poesia Consagrada/General Walt Whitman Poems : Song of the Open Road 0 1.746 04/12/2011 - 22:43 English
Poesia Consagrada/General Walt Whitman Poems : Song of the Exposition 0 1.443 04/12/2011 - 22:40 English
Poesia Consagrada/General Walt Whitman Poems : Song of the Broad-Axe 0 2.183 04/12/2011 - 01:18 English
Poesia Consagrada/General Walt Whitman Poems : Song of the Banner at Daybreak 0 2.575 04/12/2011 - 00:47 English
Poesia Consagrada/General Walt Whitman Poems : Song of the Answerer 0 2.487 04/12/2011 - 00:44 English
Poesia Consagrada/General Walt Whitman Poems : Song of Prudence 0 2.424 04/12/2011 - 00:35 English
Poesia Consagrada/General Walt Whitman Poems : Song of Myself 0 8.211 04/12/2011 - 00:19 English
Poesia Consagrada/General Walt Whitman Poems : A Song of Joys 0 3.114 04/11/2011 - 23:59 English
Poesia Consagrada/General Walt Whitman Poems : A Song for Occupations 0 2.276 04/11/2011 - 23:56 English
Poesia Consagrada/General Walt Whitman Poems : Song for All Seas, All Ships 0 2.195 04/11/2011 - 23:54 English
Poesia Consagrada/General Walt Whitman Poems : Song at Sunset 0 1.072 04/11/2011 - 23:52 English
Poesia Consagrada/General Walt Whitman Poems : So Long! 0 2.525 04/11/2011 - 23:36 English
Poesia Consagrada/General Walt Whitman Poems : Small the Theme of My Chant 0 2.538 04/11/2011 - 23:34 English