Leaves of Grass, by Walt Whitman

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You who celebrate bygones!

Who have explored the outward, the surfaces of the
races—the life that has exhibited itself;

Who have treated of man as the creature of politics,
aggregates, rulers and priests;

I, habitué of the Alleghanies, treating man as he is in
himself, in his own rights,

Pressing the pulse of the life that has seldom ex-
hibited itself, (the great pride of man in him-
self;)

Chanter of Personality, outlining what is yet to be,

I project the history of the future.

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