Now Precedent Songs, Farewell
By Walter Whitman
Now precedent songs, farewell — by every name farewell,
(Trains of a staggering line in many a strange procession, waggons,
From ups and downs — with intervals — from elder years, mid-age, or youth,)
“In Cabin’d Ships, or Thee Old Cause or Poets to Come
Or Paumanok, Song of Myself, Calamus, or Adam,
Or Beat! Beat! Drums! or To the Leaven’d Soil they Trod,
Or Captain! My Captain! Kosmos, Quicksand Years, or Thoughts,
Thou Mother with thy Equal Brood,” and many, many more unspecified,
From fibre heart of mine — from throat and tongue — (My life’s hot pulsing blood,
The personal urge and form for me — not merely paper, automatic type and ink,)
Each song of mine — each utterance in the past — having its long, long history,
Of life or death, or soldier’s wound, of country’s loss or safety,
(O heaven! what flash and started endless train of all! compared indeed to that!
What wretched shred e’en at the best of all!)
Poem Analysis:
Walt Whitman's Now Precedent Songs, Farewell is a solemn and reflective poem that reads like a farewell address from a seasoned poet to his body of work — a meditation on legacy, the passage of time, and the human soul's attempt to capture experience in language. Written in his signature free verse style, the poem is a final, humble gesture that acknowledges the deep personal roots of his poetic journey while recognizing the limitations of poetry in conveying the full power of lived life.
Context and Overview
Whitman was a pioneering American poet whose work — particularly Leaves of Grass — revolutionized poetic form, tone, and subject matter. Now Precedent Songs, Farewell appears to be one of Whitman’s later poems, a kind of epilogue or summing-up. It expresses gratitude and affection for his earlier work while also signaling a turning inward and a possible departure from writing altogether.
The title itself is revealing: "precedent songs" refers to his previous poems — songs that have come before — and the word "farewell" implies a finality, a conscious act of letting go.
"Now precedent songs, farewell — by every name farewell,"
Whitman opens with a simple but weighty goodbye to all his earlier poetic creations. The repetition of “farewell” reinforces the gravity of the gesture — this is not a casual closing but a ceremonial parting.
"(Trains of a staggering line in many a strange procession, waggons, / From ups and downs — with intervals — from elder years, mid-age, or youth,)"
Here, Whitman likens his poems to a “staggering line” of train cars or wagons in a “strange procession.” The image suggests a long, uneven journey through the years of his life — each period bringing its own set of poetic expressions, shaped by the ups and downs of personal and historical experience.
"‘In Cabin’d Ships,’ or ‘Thee Old Cause’ or ‘Poets to Come’..."
He lists several of his own major works, each representing a distinct theme or poetic era:
- In Cabin’d Ships at Sea — a poem about adventure, discovery, and poetic mission
- Thee Old Cause — referring to the American Civil War and the struggle for freedom
- Poets to Come — a message to future generations
- Song of Myself, Calamus, Adam, and Beat! Beat! Drums! — expressions of selfhood, love, war, and democracy
By naming these, Whitman touches upon the rich diversity of his poetic canon.
"...and many, many more unspecified,"
This line shows humility and acknowledges the vastness of his output. Not everything can be named — many works go unnamed, yet all are part of the whole.
"From fibre heart of mine — from throat and tongue — (My life’s hot pulsing blood, / The personal urge and form for me — not merely paper, automatic type and ink,)"
Whitman emphasizes that his poetry was never just writing — it was a physical, emotional, and spiritual act. His poems are expressions of his living body and soul — “hot pulsing blood” — not mechanical artifacts.
This line is central to Whitman's poetic ethos: for him, poetry is a deeply personal outpouring of the self, not an intellectual or detached exercise.
"Each song of mine — each utterance in the past — having its long, long history,"
Every poem has its own backstory — born of a particular moment, emotion, or experience. Whitman acknowledges that each one carries emotional and historical weight.
"Of life or death, or soldier’s wound, of country’s loss or safety,"
Many of Whitman's poems were shaped by the American Civil War, where he served as a volunteer nurse. His work often deals with the trauma of war, personal sacrifice, and national identity. These themes are foundational to his poetry, and here he reminds us of that.
"(O heaven! what flash and started endless train of all! compared indeed to that! / What wretched shred e’en at the best of all!)"
These final lines contain a profound emotional and spiritual turn. Whitman expresses awe at the overwhelming magnitude of real life — "what flash" — and how even the best poetry is a "wretched shred" in comparison. He confronts the inevitable limitation of language: no poem, however inspired, can fully capture the vastness of lived experience, suffering, love, or beauty.
Themes
- Artistic Retrospection and Legacy: The poem is a retrospective bow to Whitman’s literary journey. It recognizes the breadth and depth of his poetic output and marks a kind of spiritual closure — an acceptance that the work is done.
- Humility Before Life’s Immensity: Despite his towering influence, Whitman expresses a kind of cosmic humility. Even his best poems pale in comparison to the reality they try to express. This echoes the Transcendentalist idea that life, nature, and spirit exceed what language can articulate.
- Poetry as Embodied Expression: Whitman reaffirms his belief in poetry as an extension of the self. The line between body and word blurs — his poems come from “throat and tongue,” “hot pulsing blood” — grounding his art in the human experience.
- Time, Memory, and Farewell: The poem functions as a valediction — not just to specific poems, but to a life’s work. It’s both intimate and universal: the personal experience of letting go, the artist’s final reflection, and the universal realization that all things — even art — are transient.
Style and Language
Whitman uses free verse, one of his hallmarks, rejecting rhyme and meter in favor of a natural, conversational flow. The style allows him to mimic thought and breath, creating a sense of immediacy and intimacy. His use of cataloguing (listing works and ideas) reinforces the breadth of his vision and career.
The tone is reflective, emotive, and philosophical. There's a sense of weight, of age, and of experience speaking here — not with arrogance, but with calm understanding and wistful farewell.
Now Precedent Songs, Farewell is a poet’s graceful and poignant goodbye — to his past works, to the act of writing, and perhaps even to life itself. In this final salute, Whitman acknowledges both the power and the inadequacy of poetry. He leaves not with pride but with gratitude, humility, and reverence for the ungraspable vastness of reality.
The poem stands as a testament to Whitman’s unwavering commitment to authenticity — a poetic voice born not from ink and type, but from “fibre heart” and “life’s hot pulsing blood.” Through this closing gesture, he reminds us that while words may fade, the human soul behind them endures.