WHISPERS of heavenly death, murmurd I hear; 
Labial gossip of nightsibilant chorals; 
Footsteps gently ascendingmystical breezes, wafted soft and low; 
Ripples of unseen riverstides of a current, flowing, forever flowing; 
(Or is it the plashing of tears? the measureless waters of human tears?)
  
I see, just see, skyward, great cloud-masses; 
Mournfully, slowly they roll, silently swelling and mixing; 
With, at times, a half-dimmd, saddend, far-off star, 
Appearing and disappearing. 
  
(Some parturition, rathersome solemn, immortal birth:
On the frontiers, to eyes impenetrable, 
Some Soul is passing over.)
Whispers of Heavenly Death.
written byWalt Whitman
© Walt Whitman






