[There Was a Child Went Forth]

THERE was a child went forth every day,

And the first object he looked upon and received with wonder or

pity or love or dread, that object he became,

And that object became part of him for the day or a certain part

of the day .... or for many years or stretching cycles of years.

 

The early lilacs became part of this child,

And grass, and white and red morningglories, and white and red

clover, and the song of the phœbe-bird,

And the March-born lambs, and the sow’s pink-faint litter, and the

mare’s foal, and the cow’s calf, and the noisy brood of the

barnyard or by the mire of the pondside .. and the fish

suspending themselves so curiously below there .. and the

beautiful curious liquid .. and the water-plants with their

graceful flat heads .. all became part of him.

And the field-sprouts of April and May became part of him ....

wintergrain sprouts, and those of the light-yellow corn, and of

the esculent roots of the garden,

And the appletrees covered with blossoms, and the fruit

afterward .... and woodberries .. and the commonest weeds

by the road;

And the old drunkard staggering home from the outhouse of the

tavern whence he had lately risen,

And the schoolmistress that passed on her way to the school ..

and the friendly boys that passed .. and the quarrelsome

boys .. and the tidy and freshcheeked girls .. and the barefoot

negro boy and girl,

And all the changes of city and country wherever he went.

 

His own parents .. he that had propelled the fatherstuff at night,

and fathered him .. and she that conceived him in her womb

and birthed him .... they gave this child more of themselves

than that,

They gave him afterward every day .... they and of them became

part of him.

 

The mother at home quietly placing the dishes on the

suppertable,

The mother with mild words .... clean her cap and gown .... a

wholesome odor falling off her person and clothes as she

walks by:

The father, strong, selfsufficient, manly, mean, angered,

unjust,

The blow, the quick loud word, the tight bargain, the crafty

lure,⁴⁶

The family usages, the language, the company, the furniture ....

the yearning and swelling heart,

Affection that will not be gainsayed .... The sense of what is

real .... the thought if after all it should prove unreal,

The doubts of daytime and the doubts of nighttime ... the

curious whether and how,

Whether that which appears so is so .... Or is it all flashes and

specks?

Men and women crowding fast in the streets.. if they are not

flashes and specks what are they?

The streets themselves, and the facades of houses .... the goods

in the windows,

Vehicles .. teams .. the tiered wharves, and the huge crossing at

the ferries;

The village on the highland seen from afar at sunset .... the river

between,

Shadows .. aureola and mist.. light falling on roofs and gables of

white or brown, three miles off,

The schooner near by sleepily dropping down the tide .. the little

boat slacktowed astern,

The hurrying tumbling waves and quickbroken crests and

slapping;

The strata of colored clouds .... the long bar of maroontint

away solitary by itself .... the spread of purity it lies

motionless in,

The horizon’s edge, the flying seacrow, the fragrance of saltmarsh

and shoremud;

These became part of that child who went forth every day, and

who now goes and will always go forth every day,

And these become of him or her that peruses them now.