Come Up From the Fields, Father
Dec 2025. SATB a cappella / 4:50
"Come Up from the Fields, Father" is a poignant poem by Walt Whitman that explores the impact of war on a rural family, conveying themes of loss, grief, and the harsh realities of wartime. The poem was written during the American Civil War and published in Whitman's collection Drum-Taps in 1865. The poem presents a narrative where a daughter calls her father to come inside, as she has received a letter from her brother, Pete, who is serving in the war. The poem contrasts the serene beauty of autumn with the devastating news contained in the letter, which ultimately reveals that Pete has died.
For this arrangement, I adapted the poem and added other Whitman writing from this collection. The original poem climaxes in the wail of death. My adaptation removes the direct reference of death, and the result is an emotional climax with the mother noticing that the letter was not written in their son’s hand. What follows this lament is a kind of benediction from the chorus on the peace around them, and then a gesture by the daughter that brings the family together.
Come Up From the Fields, Father by Walt Whitman, (adapted)
Come up from the fields father, here’s a letter from our Pete.
Lo, ‘tis autumn,
Lo, where the trees, deeper green, yellower and redder,
Come to the front door mother, here’s a letter from thy dear son.
Cool and sweeten Ohio’s villages with leaves fluttering in the wind,
Where apples ripe from the orchard hang and grapes on the trellis’d vine,
Come out to see it, sister, there’s a letter from our brother.
Smell you the smell of the grapes on the vines
Smell you the buckwheat where the bees were lately buzzing?
Open the envelope quickly,
O this is not our son’s writing, yet his name is sign’d,
O a strange hand writes for our dear son.
Above all, lo, the sky so calm,
With wondrous clouds
Give me your hand, mother.
Give me your hand, father.
The hill-top is nigh.
Broken, with rocks, with clinging cedars,
Below a fertile valley spread, with barns and the orchards of autumn.
Under the sky, the eternal stars.
—--------------------------
Text adapted from: Walt Whitman
Come up from the Fields, Father
Drum Taps
The Centenarian’s Story
Bivouac on a Mountain Side