Over the Carnage Rose Prophetic a Voice
Over the carnage rose prophetic a voice, Be not dishearten’d, affection shall solve the problems of freedom yet, Those who love each other shall become invincible, They shall yet make Columbia victorious. Sons of the Mother of All, you shall yet be victorious, You shall yet laugh to scorn the attacks of all the remainder of the earth. No danger shall balk Columbia’s lovers, If need be a thousand shall sternly immolate themselves for one. One from Massachusetts shall be a Missourian’s comrade, From Maine and from hot Carolina, and another an Oregonese, shall be friends triune, More precious to each other than all the riches of the earth. To Michigan, Florida perfumes shall tenderly come, Not the perfumes of flowers, but sweeter, and wafted beyond death. It shall be customary in the houses and streets to see manly affection, The most dauntless and rude shall touch face to face lightly, The dependence of Liberty shall be lovers, The continuance of Equality shall be comrades. These shall tie you and band you stronger than hoops of iron, I, ecstatic, O partners! O lands! with the love of lovers tie you. (Were you looking to be held together by lawyers? Or by an agreement on a paper? or by arms? Nay, nor the world, nor any living thing, will so cohere.)
Over the Carnage Rose Prophetic a Voice protrays the states uniting as one and there is definite love for each other. Therefore, the tone is light and happy and full of brotherhood between the opposing sides. It’s rather optomistic for the future of the states, “One from Massachusetts shall be a Missourian’s comrade, From Maine and from hot Carolina, and another an Orgonesem, shall be friends triune” (lines 10-12). It is evident that Whitman believes that once the war is over the states can unite once again and that despite the violence and death there is still a feeling of brotherhood among the two sides.
Dirge for Two Veterans
THE last sunbeam Lightly falls from the finish’d Sabbath, On the pavement here, and there beyond it is looking, Down a new-made double grave. Lo, the moon ascending, Up from the east the silvery round moon, Beautiful over the house-tops, ghastly, phantom moon, Immense and silent moon. I see a sad procession, And I hear the sound of coming full-key’d bugles, All the channels of the city streets they’re flooding, As with voices and with tears. I hear the great drums pounding, And the small drums steady whirring, And every blow of the great convulsive drums, Strikes me through and through. For the son is brought with the father, (In the foremost ranks of the fierce assault they fell, Two veterans son and father dropt together, And the double grave awaits them.) Now nearer blow the bugles, And the drums strike more convulsive, And the daylight o’er the pavement quite has faded, And the strong dead-march enwraps me. In the eastern sky up-buoying, The sorrowful vast phantom moves illumin’d, (‘Tis some mother’s large transparent face, In heaven brighter growing.) O strong dead-march you please me! O moon immense with your silvery face you soothe me! O my soldiers twain! O my veterans passing to burial! What I have I also give you. The moon gives you light, And the bugles and the drums give you music, And my heart, O my soldiers, my veterans, My heart gives you love.
Dirge for Two Veterans explains how the soldiers on each side of the battle are both dying and ending up in the same place, a grave. Whitman focuses on the moons glare atop the houses and villages where the processions of the dead soldiers are taking place, “Two veterans son and father dropt together, And the double grave awaits them” (lines 19-20). The mood of this poem is sad as it highlights the death of generations fighting because they’re leaders cannot get along, “All the channels of the city streets they’re flooding, As with voices and with tears” (lines 11-12). Whitman’s tone of voice suggests that he feels the lives are being wasted on a avoidable war but the soldiers should be honored for risking their lives for their country.