Not much science in this week’s Sunday poem, but since Monday is the U.S. Memorial Day, and since Walt Whitman’s birthday is May 31st, I think an appropriate selection is the following passage, one of the most sublime sentences in all American poetry, from Walt Whitman’s memorial poem, “When Lilac’s Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d.” Memorial Day began as Decoration Day, originally designated to honor the U.S. Civil War Dead. In this passage, Whitman breaks a sprig of lilac as a memorial offer to the assassinated Abraham Lincoln and all of those fallen in the Civil War.
In the door-yard fronting an old farm-house, near the white-wash’d palings,
Stands the lilac bush, tall-growing, with heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
With many a pointed blossom, rising, delicate, with the perfume strong I love,
With every leaf a miracle – and from this bush in the door-yard,
With delicate-color’d blossoms, and heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
A sprig, with its flower, I break.
If you’re not familiar with this great poem, go read the entire thing here. And if you are familiar with the poem, go read it again.
The Finch and Pea 