Section 6 Summary

Lines 33-35

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,

• There's that coffin again, passing through with that "great cloud darkening the land." Remember the cloud from Section 2? It looks like it's come back to confirm that it's not just covering the speaker's grief, but also "the land" more generally. 
• The mood has also become a bit more ominous with that cloud, as if dark times are brewing along with some uncertainty as to what will happen next. 
• Are you wondering who might be in that coffin by now? Maybe the "pomp of the inloop'd flags" that cover it gives you a clue, or the fact that entire cities are "draped in black," a sign of mourning. 
• Need another clue? History Note: After he was assassinated, Abraham Lincoln's body was essentially put on tour, taking him by train from Washington D.C. back to Springfield, Illinois (retracing his voyage to the U.S. presidency). Along the way, it made stops in cities so that mourners could view the coffin.
• That's right: the poem's describing poor Honest Abe's funeral procession.

Lines 36-38

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,

• More common indications of national mourning in these lines are with all the "States" we see. Notice the anaphora we have going on too with that repeated "With the" clause. The speaker is making a list of all the signs of pain and suffering that are being shared by many people at the same time. The repetition emphasizes the seemingly endless extent of that pain. 
• The "crape-veil'd women standing" serve to emphasize the toll the war has taken on countless families across the nation.
• (Fashion Note: a crape veil is an old-timey, see-through cover—usually black—that would be worn over the face in a time of morning. Check one out here.)
• The "show of the States" basically compares them to so many women, dressed in mourning clothes, but it also speaks to the shared mourning that's occurring following Lincoln's assassination. The States are all mourning the passing of their leader. 
• The processions look just as long and winding as the list our speaker has going for us here, and that's no coincidence. We're meant to feel and see the long procession of the death toll the war has brought about.
• Those torches and flambeaus (another kind of torch) are also bright reminders of the life that have been lost. Even here in all the darkness we still have some light going on.
• The figurative language we see in the "silent sea of faces" also serves to show a kind of unity with these folks in their time of mourning. All together they make up this "sea" of grief that can do little more than carry that torch to remember poor Abe. 
• Their "unbared heads" indicate the respect and honor they pay to the dead (removing hats at funerals is a show of respect).

Lines 39-41

With the waiting depot, the arriving coffin, and the sombre faces,
With dirges through the night, with the thousand voices rising strong and solemn,
With all the mournful voices of the dirges pour'd around the coffin,

• The "waiting depot" in line 39 refers to the train station where Lincoln's funeral train would arrive, making stops as it progressed from D.C. to Illinois. 
• The "dirges" (mournful music) in line 40 add another layer of mourning to this section. Along with all the gloomy imagery, we now have gloomy music to emphasize the extent of the suffering of those somber faces.
• But the "thousand voices rising strong and solemn" give us reason to sense some hope, despite all the despair. Things may be gloomy but folks are still sticking together, mourning together, and remaining strong in hopes of a brighter tomorrow. (Elegies have a way of making even Shmoopers sound mushy—sorry about that.)
• We even have a rather rare occurrence of alliteration in line 40 with the S words "strong and solemn." You don't usually see too many sound devices in Whitman's poetry (the guy likes to keep things "free") so we gotta grab 'em when we see 'em.
• Check out "Sound Check" for more.
• Line 41 is the last line in our long catalog of those "with the" clauses. If you're feeling exhausted and weighed down by all the gloom at this point, congratulations! You've successfully read this section in the way the speaker intends. We're supposed to feel burdened by all the death, hence all the repetition and "mournful voices."

Lines 42-45

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.

• Line 42 sounds a bit different, right? Can anyone tell why? We'll give you a sec.
• If you answered that the "you" gives us a second-person voice that invites the reader into the speaker's setting, then your bonus prize is in the mail (no really, trust us). 
• The unity we sense in all these "shows" of mourning is now being extended to us ("you journey"). We mentioned that Whitman likes to create unity in his poems, so there you have it.
• So we, like the other mourners, are being addressed in the poem as well. We can maybe even hear those "tolling tolling bells" in line 43 as if they're right outside our window.
• Yeah, probably not. In lines 44-45 we realize that the "you" is actually the coffin that's passing by. Clever, Walt, clever—this is the second time that he's put the coffin at the end of section as a terrible surprise for the reader. 
• The speaker is talking to the coffin directly here. It's an elegy, remember. We can talk to death and coffins as much as we like.
• And what does he give the coffin? That sprig of lilac he broke off from the tall bush earlier. We thought those lilacs would become important… With that handing over of the lilac, we see some symbolism here. If the lilacs represent life's vivacity, perseverance, and rejuvenation, then the handing over we see here is a reminder of life's continuance. Don't forget to check out "Symbols, Imagery, and Wordplay" for more.