Walt Whitman - A poem by A. A. B. Cavaness

Walt Whitman.

MIXTURE of Nature's rarest elements
And type ideal of her rude magnificence,
Wide as her landscapes, river-thoughted priest of
   America;
Comrade of grasses, flowers, trees^___earth's inspiration^___
Breathing their odors, drinking at their dripping foun-
   tains, reveling in their dewy splendors^___
Himself a part of and kin to their mystery and divinity,
(As 'twere great Pan had come again with pipe and lute,
   and song as wind and wave,)
Torch bearer and oracle, celebrating man,
With sympathy encircling as the sun^___
Yet rather kissing hamlet than the palace;
Responsive to the wounded, suffering, dying,
(He, too, was wounded, suffering, dying,)
Poet of all, lover of all, symbol of all,
Passed with radiance (a sea of soul), placid, facing the sky.

^__A. A. B. Cavaness.

Poems by Two Brothers
A. A. B. Cavaness & J. M. Cavaness
(Chetopa: J. M. Cavaness and Son. 1896)
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