FEINBERG/WHITMAN       LITERARY FILE      Prose   "The Gates Opening" (Apr.6, 1877) Specimen Days.  A. MS. draft.

Box 32   Folder 431822
1877 6 April The Gates Opening: Pose. A.MS. (1p. 28 x 16 3/4 cm.)
Written in pencil, with two cancelation lines in ink, on the
back of an unused magazine wrapper, first draft, dated, with many changes, of a
piece later published as 'The Gates Opening' in Specimen Days,
pp. 99-100, about 300 words.
[Material in Specimen Days not transcribed.][?]
d. April 6 [?]
Palpable
spring again, or at any rate the indication
of it.  I am sitting in the open air [under the pure blue [?] in [the] bright
sunshine,[by] at the edge of the [pom] creek, with [?]
its glistening waters just rippled by the wind.
All in solitude, the freshness and debris of Nature negligé.
My only companions are two Kingfishers 
[?] gracefully sailing over the pond by wind earth & flight sometimes separate there capriciously [?} together near them
guttural twittering, [over & over] again and again.—[Also]
the [reedy call notes of the robin] For awhile nothing but this peculiar 
sound of many kingfishers.  As noon approaches
[there] however other birds warm up, I hear
a musical passage of two notes, one clear, delicious gurgle,
the reedy [call] notes of the robin; several
others I cannot place.  [Altogether] [With] The
sibilant [swell] & murmur of a pretty
stiff breeze every now & and then swells through the
trees, [for accompaniment].  I [find it quite]
[a concert].  @ I [think] am sure I have
seen these birds before, (see further on)

@ to which is [added—] joined—yes, I just hear it—
one [?] low purr, at intervals from some 
impatient [?hylas] at the pond-edge
Now the wind lifts some pour little dead leaf, long
frost-bound & winter dried whirls it & frolics it in one wild
freedom- spree in space & sunlight & then [?ashes] it down to the waters  which hold it closely & soon drown it out of sight
Of course, the bushes & trees are
yet bare, every thing ? , plenty of dead
oak leaves on the ground, [in] the beeches
with their wrinkled yellow leaves from [of] last season's foliage, yet
largely left, frequent cedars & pines yet green,
and the grass not without prophecies of
nature already.  @ Over all a wonderful
fine dome of blue, & play of light coming
& going & [the] great [fl?es?] of 
white clouds [????]so  [sil??tion]BOOK POST        61