May they stand fast, then? not an hour except you above them and all stand fast);

O banner, not money so precious are you, not farm produce you, nor the material good nutriment,

Nor excellent stores, nor landed on wharves from the ships,

Not the superb ships with sail-power or steam-power, fetching and carrying cargoes,

Nor machinery, vehicles, trade, nor revenues—but you as henceforth I see you,

Running up out of the night, bringing your cluster of stars (ever-enlarging stars),

Divider of daybreak you, cutting the air, touch'd by the sun, measuring the sky,

(Passionately seen and yearn'd for by one poor little child,

While others remain busy or smartly talking, forever teaching thrift, thrift);

O you up there! O pennant! where you undulate like a snake hissing so curious,

Out of reach, an idea only, yet furiously fought for, risking bloody death, loved by me,

So loved—O you banner leading the day with stars brought from the night!

Valueless, object of eyes, over all and demanding all—(absolute owner of all)—O banner and pennant!

I too leave the rest!—great as it is, it is nothing—houses, machines are nothing—I see them not.

I see but you, O warlike pennant! O banner so broad, with stripes, I sing you only,

Flapping up there in the wind.

[Pg 31]

[Pg 31]

THE DYING VETERAN

(A Long Island incident—early part of the nineteenth century.)

 Prev. P 21/131 next