When the lilcas last in the dooryard bloom'd

"When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd" is a long poem in the form of an elegy written by American poet Walt Whitman (1819–1892) in 1865. The poem, written in free verse in 206 lines, uses many of the literary techniques associated with the pastoral elegy.

                                     

                 Common lilac (Syringa vulgaris)
 
Theme of the poem :
            Walt Whitman wrote of the divinity of the self (the "I" in his poems has been reborn as something divine) and of the individual as well as the community of man as in his "Leaves of Grass." ... Nature and its beauty are amongthemes treated by his poetry as are the melancholy and horrors of death in the Civil War.
   

Walt Whitman (1819–1892).  Leaves of Grass.  1900. 

192. When Lilacs Last in the Door-yard Bloom’d 

1 WHEN lilacs last in the door-yard bloom’d,
And the great star early droop’d in the western sky in the night,
I mourn’d—and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
O ever-returning spring! trinity sure to me you bring;
Lilac blooming perennial, and drooping star in the west,	5
And thought of him I love.
2 O powerful, western, fallen star!
O shades of night! O moody, tearful night!
O great star disappear’d! O the black murk that hides the star!
O cruel hands that hold me powerless! O helpless soul of me!	10
O harsh surrounding cloud, that will not free my soul!
3 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,	15
With delicate-color’d blossoms, and heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
A sprig, with its flower, I break.
4 In the swamp, in secluded recesses,
A shy and hidden bird is warbling a song.
Solitary, the thrush,	20
The hermit, withdrawn to himself, avoiding the settlements,
Sings by himself a song.
Song of the bleeding throat!
Death’s outlet song of life—(for well, dear brother, I know
If thou wast not gifted to sing, thou would’st surely die.)	25
5 Over the breast of the spring, the land, amid cities,
Amid lanes, and through old woods, (where lately the violets peep’d from the ground, spotting the gray debris;)
Amid the grass in the fields each side of the lanes—passing the endless grass;
Passing the yellow-spear’d wheat, every grain from its shroud in the dark-brown fields uprising;
Passing the apple-tree blows of white and pink in the orchards;	30
Carrying a corpse to where it shall rest in the grave,
Night and day journeys a coffin.
6 Coffin that passes through lanes and streets,
Through day and night, with the great cloud darkening the land,
With the pomp of the inloop’d flags, with the cities draped in black,	35
With the show of the States themselves, as of crape-veil’d women, standing,
With processions long and winding, and the flambeaus of the night,
With the countless torches lit—with the silent sea of faces, and the unbared heads,
With the waiting depot, the arriving coffin, and the sombre faces,
With dirges through the night, with the thousand voices rising strong and solemn;	40
With all the mournful voices of the dirges, pour’d around the coffin,
The dim-lit churches and the shuddering organs—Where amid these you journey,
With the tolling, tolling bells’ perpetual clang;
Here! coffin that slowly passes,
I give you my sprig of lilac.	45
7 (Nor for you, for one, alone;
Blossoms and branches green to coffins all I bring:
For fresh as the morning—thus would I carol a song for you, O sane and sacred death.
All over bouquets of roses,
O death! I cover you over with roses and early lilies;	50
But mostly and now the lilac that blooms the first,
Copious, I break, I break the sprigs from the bushes;
With loaded arms I come, pouring for you,
For you, and the coffins all of you, O death.)
8 O western orb, sailing the heaven!	55
Now I know what you must have meant, as a month since we walk’d,
As we walk’d up and down in the dark blue so mystic,
As we walk’d in silence the transparent shadowy night,
As I saw you had something to tell, as you bent to me night after night,
As you droop’d from the sky low down, as if to my side, (while the other stars all look’d on;)	60
As we wander’d together the solemn night, (for something, I know not what, kept me from sleep;)
As the night advanced, and I saw on the rim of the west, ere you went, how full you were of woe;
As I stood on the rising ground in the breeze, in the cold transparent night,
As I watch’d where you pass’d and was lost in the netherward black of the night,
As my soul, in its trouble, dissatisfied, sank, as where you, sad orb,	65
Concluded, dropt in the night, and was gone.
9 Sing on, there in the swamp!
O singer bashful and tender! I hear your notes—I hear your call;
I hear—I come presently—I understand you;
But a moment I linger—for the lustrous star has detain’d me;	70
The star, my departing comrade, holds and detains me.
10 O how shall I warble myself for the dead one there I loved?
And how shall I deck my song for the large sweet soul that has gone?
And what shall my perfume be, for the grave of him I love?
Sea-winds, blown from east and west,	75
Blown from the eastern sea, and blown from the western sea, till there on the prairies meeting:
These, and with these, and the breath of my chant,
I perfume the grave of him I love.
11 O what shall I hang on the chamber walls?
And what shall the pictures be that I hang on the walls,	80
To adorn the burial-house of him I love?
Pictures of growing spring, and farms, and homes,
With the Fourth-month eve at sundown, and the gray smoke lucid and bright,
With floods of the yellow gold of the gorgeous, indolent, sinking sun, burning, expanding the air;
With the fresh sweet herbage under foot, and the pale green leaves of the trees prolific;	85
In the distance the flowing glaze, the breast of the river, with a wind-dapple here and there;
With ranging hills on the banks, with many a line against the sky, and shadows;
And the city at hand, with dwellings so dense, and stacks of chimneys,
And all the scenes of life, and the workshops, and the workmen homeward returning.
12 Lo! body and soul! this land!	90
Mighty Manhattan, with spires, and the sparkling and hurrying tides, and the ships;
The varied and ample land—the South and the North in the light—Ohio’s shores, and flashing Missouri,
And ever the far-spreading prairies, cover’d with grass and corn.
Lo! the most excellent sun, so calm and haughty;
The violet and purple morn, with just-felt breezes;	95
The gentle, soft-born, measureless light;
The miracle, spreading, bathing all—the fulfill’d noon;
The coming eve, delicious—the welcome night, and the stars,
Over my cities shining all, enveloping man and land.
13 Sing on! sing on, you gray-brown bird!	100
Sing from the swamps, the recesses—pour your chant from the bushes;
Limitless out of the dusk, out of the cedars and pines.
Sing on, dearest brother—warble your reedy song;
Loud human song, with voice of uttermost woe.
O liquid, and free, and tender!	105
O wild and loose to my soul! O wondrous singer!
You only I hear......yet the star holds me, (but will soon depart;)
Yet the lilac, with mastering odor, holds me.
14 Now while I sat in the day, and look’d forth,
In the close of the day, with its light, and the fields of spring, and the farmer preparing his crops,	110
In the large unconscious scenery of my land, with its lakes and forests,
In the heavenly aerial beauty, (after the perturb’d winds, and the storms;)
Under the arching heavens of the afternoon swift passing, and the voices of children and women,
The many-moving sea-tides,—and I saw the ships how they sail’d,
And the summer approaching with richness, and the fields all busy with labor,	115
And the infinite separate houses, how they all went on, each with its meals and minutia of daily usages;
And the streets, how their throbbings throbb’d, and the cities pent—lo! then and there,
Falling upon them all, and among them all, enveloping me with the rest,
Appear’d the cloud, appear’d the long black trail;
And I knew Death, its thought, and the sacred knowledge of death.	120
15 Then with the knowledge of death as walking one side of me,
And the thought of death close-walking the other side of me,
And I in the middle, as with companions, and as holding the hands of companions,
I fled forth to the hiding receiving night, that talks not,
Down to the shores of the water, the path by the swamp in the dimness,	125
To the solemn shadowy cedars, and ghostly pines so still.
And the singer so shy to the rest receiv’d me;
The gray-brown bird I know, receiv’d us comrades three;
And he sang what seem’d the carol of death, and a verse for him I love.
From deep secluded recesses,	130
From the fragrant cedars, and the ghostly pines so still,
Came the carol of the bird.
And the charm of the carol rapt me,
As I held, as if by their hands, my comrades in the night;
And the voice of my spirit tallied the song of the bird.	135
DEATH CAROL. 16 Come, lovely and soothing Death,
Undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving,
In the day, in the night, to all, to each,
Sooner or later, delicate Death.
Prais’d be the fathomless universe,	140
For life and joy, and for objects and knowledge curious;
And for love, sweet love—But praise! praise! praise!
For the sure-enwinding arms of cool-enfolding Death.
Dark Mother, always gliding near, with soft feet,
Have none chanted for thee a chant of fullest welcome?	145
Then I chant it for thee—I glorify thee above all;
I bring thee a song that when thou must indeed come, come unfalteringly.
Approach, strong Deliveress!
When it is so—when thou hast taken them, I joyously sing the dead,
Lost in the loving, floating ocean of thee,	150
Laved in the flood of thy bliss, O Death.
From me to thee glad serenades,
Dances for thee I propose, saluting thee—adornments and feastings for thee;
And the sights of the open landscape, and the high-spread sky, are fitting,
And life and the fields, and the huge and thoughtful night.	155
The night, in silence, under many a star;
The ocean shore, and the husky whispering wave, whose voice I know;
And the soul turning to thee, O vast and well-veil’d Death,
And the body gratefully nestling close to thee.
Over the tree-tops I float thee a song!	160
Over the rising and sinking waves—over the myriad fields, and the prairies wide;
Over the dense-pack’d cities all, and the teeming wharves and ways,
I float this carol with joy, with joy to thee, O Death!
17 To the tally of my soul,
Loud and strong kept up the gray-brown bird,	165
With pure, deliberate notes, spreading, filling the night.
Loud in the pines and cedars dim,
Clear in the freshness moist, and the swamp-perfume;
And I with my comrades there in the night.
While my sight that was bound in my eyes unclosed,	170
As to long panoramas of visions.
18 I saw askant the armies;
And I saw, as in noiseless dreams, hundreds of battle-flags;
Borne through the smoke of the battles, and pierc’d with missiles, I saw them,
And carried hither and yon through the smoke, and torn and bloody;	175
And at last but a few shreds left on the staffs, (and all in silence,)
And the staffs all splinter’d and broken.
I saw battle-corpses, myriads of them,
And the white skeletons of young men—I saw them;
I saw the debris and debris of all the dead soldiers of the war;	180
But I saw they were not as was thought;
They themselves were fully at rest—they suffer’d not;
The living remain’d and suffer’d—the mother suffer’d,
And the wife and the child, and the musing comrade suffer’d,
And the armies that remain’d suffer’d.	185
19 Passing the visions, passing the night;
Passing, unloosing the hold of my comrades’ hands;
Passing the song of the hermit bird, and the tallying song of my soul,
(Victorious song, death’s outlet song, yet varying, ever-altering song,
As low and wailing, yet clear the notes, rising and falling, flooding the night,	190
Sadly sinking and fainting, as warning and warning, and yet again bursting with joy,
Covering the earth, and filling the spread of the heaven,
As that powerful psalm in the night I heard from recesses,)
Passing, I leave thee, lilac with heart-shaped leaves;
I leave thee there in the door-yard, blooming, returning with spring,	195
I cease from my song for thee;
From my gaze on thee in the west, fronting the west, communing with thee,
O comrade lustrous, with silver face in the night.
20 Yet each I keep, and all, retrievements out of the night;
The song, the wondrous chant of the gray-brown bird,	200
And the tallying chant, the echo arous’d in my soul,
With the lustrous and drooping star, with the countenance full of woe,
With the lilac tall, and its blossoms of mastering odor;
With the holders holding my hand, nearing the call of the bird,
Comrades mine, and I in the midst, and their memory ever I keep—for the dead I loved so well;	205
For the sweetest, wisest soul of all my days and lands...and this for his dear sake;
Lilac and star and bird, twined with the chant of my soul,
There in the fragrant pines, and the cedars dusk and dim.

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Summary and Form

This 1865 poem is part of a series of pieces written after Lincoln’s assassination. While it does not display all the conventions of the form, this is nevertheless considered to be a pastoral elegy: a poem of mourning that makes use of elaborate conventions drawn from the natural world and rustic human society. Virgilis the most prominent classical practitioner of the form; Milton’s “Lycidas” and Shelley’s “Adonais” are the two best-known examples in the English tradition. One of the most important features of the pastoral elegy is the depiction of the deceased and the poet who mourns him as shepherds. While the association is not specifically made in this poem, it must surely have been in Whitman’s mind as he wrote: Lincoln, in many ways, was the “shepherd” of the American people during wartime, and his loss left the North in the position of a flock without a leader. As in traditional pastoral elegies, nature mourns Lincoln’s death in this poem, although it does so in some rather unconventional ways (more on that in a moment). The poem also makes reference to the problems of modern times in its brief, shadowy depictions of Civil War battles. The natural order is contrasted with the human one, and Whitman goes so far as to suggest that those who have died violent deaths in war are actually the lucky ones, since they are now beyond suffering.

Above all this is a public poem of private mourning. In it Whitman tries to determine the best way to mourn a public figure, and the best way to mourn in a modern world. In his resignation at the end of the poem, and in his use of disconnected motifs, he suggests that the kind of ceremonial poetry a pastoral elegy represents may no longer have a place in society; instead, symbolic, intensely personal forms must take over.

Commentary

“When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d” is composed of three separate yet simultaneous poems. One follows the progress of Lincoln’s coffin on its way to the president’s burial. The second stays with the poet and his sprig of lilac, meant to be laid on the coffin in tribute, as he ruminates on death and mourning. The third uses the symbols of a bird and a star to develop an idea of a nature sympathetic to yet separate from humanity. The progression of the coffin is followed by a sad irony. Mourners, dressed in black and holding offerings of flowers, turn out in the streets to see Lincoln’s corpse pass by. The Civil War is raging, though, and many of these people have surely lost loved ones of their own. Yet their losses are subsumed in a greater national tragedy, which in its publicness and in the fact that this poem is being written as part of the mourning process, is set up to be a far greater loss than that of their own family members. In this way the poem implicitly asks the question, “What is the worth of a man? Are some men worth more than others?” The poet’s eventual inability to mourn, and the depictions of anonymous death on the battlefields, suggest that something is wrong here.

The poet vacillates on the nature of symbolic mourning. At times he seems to see his offering of the lilac blossom as being symbolically given to all the dead; at other moments he sees it as futile, merely a broken twig. He wonders how best to do honor to the dead, asking how he would decorate the tomb. He suggests that he would fill it with portraits of everyday life and everyday men. This is a far cry from the classical statuary and elaborate floral arrangements usually associated with tombs. The language in the poem follows a similar shift. In the first stanzas the language is formal and at times even archaic, filled with exhortations and rhetorical devices. By the end much of the ceremoniousness has been stripped away; the poet offers only “lilac and star and bird twined with the chant of [his] soul.” Eventually the poet simply leaves behind the sprig of lilac, and “cease[s] from [his] song,” still unsure of just how to mourn properly.

The final image of the poem is of “the fragrant pines and the cedars dusk and dim.” All has been worked through save nature, which remains separate and beyond. The death-song of the bird expresses an understanding and a beauty that Whitman, even while he incorporates it into his poem, cannot quite master for himself. Unlike the pastoral elegies of old, which use a temporary rift with nature to comment on modernity, this one shows a profound and permanent disconnection between the human and natural worlds. “When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d” mourns for Lincoln in a way that is all the more profound for seeing the president’s death as only a smaller, albeit highly symbolic, tragedy in the midst of a world of confusion and sadness

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The three main Symbols in walt whitman's  "When lilacs last in the Dooryard bloom'd"

Walt Whitman is famous for using imagery and symbolism to convey his own thought, feelings and strong emotions  to his readers. We could find  a number of recurring images in all his poems. The word ‘symbol’ is applied only to a word or a phrase that signifies an object or event which , in turn, signifies something. His symbols are flexible and ambiguous. The things and objects like grass, the sea, the bird and the stars are the recurring symbols in the poems of Whitman.

“ When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d is an elegy on the death of the 16^th President of American President, Abraham Lincoln. The poet uses three major symbols- the star , The lilac and the bird. It initiates the readers understand the real emotions of the poet. Lilac Flower is shown in North America. This species is widely cultivated for ornamental purposes and has been naturalized in other part of Europe . It is not referred to an aggressive species, found in the wild , in widely scattered sites, usually in the vicinity of past or present human habitations. The poet compares Abraham Lincoln with Lilac flower. The poet used cyclic structure in this poem. Every  symbol is interconnected with one another. It moves from the star to the lilac, then to the bird , next to the star and finally to the hermit – thrush. Lilac the flower symbolizes the eternal memory of Lincoln. The  Western star reminds the poet of the death of Lincoln. The hermit – thrush represents the voice of spirituality. All the three symbols introduced in the beginning of the poem recur at the end of the poem also.

These symbols are taken by the poet from the time of the year when Lincoln died. The spring season portrays a constantly recurring season of birth , growth and freshness. It is a timeless reminder of Lincoln’s death. The flower Lilac is a symbol fertility, refers to eternal memory and love. The bird as the voice of divine is a symbol of reconciliation. These three symbols can be analyzed  from another angle also. The flower Lilac refers for human love, and the hermit bird symbolizes the poet’s soul. The song of the bird is the music of death. It teaches men to  accept the reality of death though reality is a bitter truth.

Whitman’s symbols are praised for their traditional and particular. In this poem the star is a traditional symbol. When the funeral procession of Abraham Lincoln started , the evening star Venus was shined in the sky. At the same time Lilacs were in rich and full bloom. Thus the image of star and lilac are linked together.

The symbol of the Hermit Thrush  is very important in this poem. It is a shy bird which can sing only “death’s outlet songs “ refers rebirth. It means one should aware of rebirth. The ‘heart shaped’ leaves of the lilac represents the fact  that his love for the dead hero( Abraham Lincoln) is fresh and unfading. The fragrance of the Lilacs flower symbolizes the affection and love for Abraham Lincoln.

Thus Walt Whitman handles imagery and symbolism excellently in his poetry.

Prof. R. Vanmathi

WHE LILACS LAST IN THE DOORYARD BLOOM'D SYMBOLISM, IMAGERY, ALLEGORY

Lilacs

They're in the title and in almost every section of the poem. So, yeah, of course we know that lilacs must symbolize something bigger than spring. From the very beginning we understand that those l...

Western Fallen Star

That "drooping" western star is chockfull of symbolism. Early on we understand the relation between this "great star disappeared" and the untimely disappearance of the speaker's hero (Lincoln)—sa...

Hermit-Bird

Ah, that grumpy, little swamp thrush. It's alone, it hates most folks, and yet it can't help singing its head off. It also can't help symbolizing the mysterious and unconscious world where the spe...

Death

Death never looked so good in Whitman's elegy. It's not personified, like as a Grim Reaper, but rather as a "Dark mother always gliding near with soft feet." Isn't that sweet? We just can't get ove...

The Civil War

We can't forget about the time period in which this elegy was written, when all of those coffins were making their way to the grave. The speaker feels very passionately about the toll the war has t...