FEINBERG/WHITMAN    LITERARY FILE    POETRY FILE    "Youuoudio"(1887).    Proof sheets.
Box 30  Folder 38

Includes Horace Traubel notation.  Also
includes A. MS. corrections & notations.The circumstances of presentation
of this proof sheet is told in With
Walt Whitman in Camden, Vol. 1. page
308.
CEF 1948PROOFS OF WALT WHITMAN


1888 Yonnondio

     Proof with H. Traubel notation.




FEINBERG COLLECTION OF WALT WHITMAN[ *1286* ]

1888 Yonnondio: poem: proof. A.MS. (1p. 17 x 15¼ cm.)

Written in blue pencil on a proof of the poem 'Yonnondio', 2 marks
(parenthesis around note below title, and line through Walt Whit-man
at end, both in pencil), and 6 words:

W W's Nov: Boughs
                                                                   44
Brev     [beside note below title]YONNONDIO.

     [The sense of the word is lament for the aborigines. It is an Iroquois term ;
and has been used for a personal name.]

A song, a poem of itself—the word itself a dirge,
Amid the wilds, the rocks, the storm and wintry night ;
To me such misty, strange tableaux the syllables calling up ;
Yonnondio—I see, far in the west or north, a limitless ravine, 
     with plains and mountains dark,
I see swarms of stalwart chieftains, medicine-men, and warriors,
As fitting by like clouds or ghosts, they pass and are gone
in the twilight,
(Race of the woods, the landscapes free, and the falls !
No picture, poem, statement, passing them to the future ; )
Yonnondio ! Yonnondio ! —unlimn'd they disappear ;
To-day gives place, and fades—the cities, farms, factories fade ; 
A muffled sonorous sound, a wailing word is borne through
the air for a moment,
Then blank and gone and still, and utterly lost.

WALT WHITMAN.


[ *Received from Walt Whitman June 12, 1888* ][ *W W. 5 Nov: Boughs* ]
[ *44* ]


YONNONDIO.

[ *Brev*]     [The sense of the word is lament for the aborigines. It is an Iroquios term ;
and has been used for a personal name.]

A song, a poem of itself—the word itself a dirge,
Amid the wilds, the rocks, the storm and wintry night ;
To me such misty, strange tableaux the syllables calling up ;
Yonnondio—I see, far in the west or north, a limitless ravine, 
     with plains and mountains dark,
I see swarms of stalwart chieftains, medicine-men, and warriors,
As fitting by like clouds or ghosts, they pass and are gone in the twilight,
(Race of the woods, the landscapes free, and the falls !
No picture, poem, statement, passing them to the future ; )
Yonnondio ! Yonnondio ! —unlimn'd they disappear ;
To-day gives place, and fades—the cities, farms, factories fade ; 
A muffled sonorous sound, a wailing word is borne through the air for a moment,
Then blank and gone and still, and utterly lost.

[WALT WHITMAN.]