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my best as for a purpose, Unbuttoning my clothes and holding me by the bare waist, Deluding my confusion
My Soul!
We closed with him . . . . the yards entangled . . . . the cannon touched, My captain lashed fast with
I laughed content when I heard the voice of my little captain, We have not struck, he composedly cried
Come my children, Come my boys and girls, and my women and household and intimates, Now the performer
He swears to his art, I will not be meddlesome, I will not have in my writing any elegance or effect
What I experience or portray shall go from my composition without a shred of my composition.
You shall stand by my side and look in the mirror with me.
Is it uniform with my country? Are its disposals without ignominious distinctions?
what answers for me an American must answer for any individual or nation that serves for a part of my
my best as for a purpose, Unbuttoning my clothes and holding me by the bare waist, Deluding my confusion
My Soul!
We closed with him . . . . the yards entangled . . . . the cannon touched, My captain lashed fast with
I laughed content when I heard the voice of my little captain, We have not struck, he composedly cried
Come my children, Come my boys and girls, and my women and household and intimates, Now the performer
COME closer to me, Push close my lovers and take the best I possess, Yield closer and closer and give
I will have my own whoever enjoys me, I will be even with you, and you shall be even with me.
become so for your sake; If you remember your foolish and outlawed deeds, do you think I cannot remember my
am this day just as much in love with them as you, But I am eternally in love with you and with all my
friendly companions, I intend to reach them my hand and make as much of them as I do of men and women
How perfect is my soul! How perfect the earth, and the minutest thing upon it!
O my soul! if I realize you I have satisfaction, Animals and vegetables!
I cannot define my satisfaction . . yet it is so, I cannot define my life . . yet it is so.
Leaves of Grass, "I Wander All Night in My Vision," Leaves of Grass.
My hands are spread forth . .
I descend my western course . . . . my sinews are flaccid, Perfume and youth course through me, and I
darn my grandson's stockings.
though I lie so sleepy and sluggish, my tap is death.
curious breathing laughing flesh is enough, To pass among them . . to touch any one . . . . to rest my
As I see my soul reflected in nature . . . . as I see through a mist one with inexpress- ible inexpressible
Features of my equals, would you trick me with your creased and cadaverous march?
I saw the face of the most smeared and slobbering idiot they had at the asylum, And I knew for my consolation
what they knew not; I knew of the agents that emptied and broke my brother, The same wait to clear the
Come nigh to me limber-hip'd man and give me your finger and thumb, Stand at my side till I lean as high
Fill me with albescent honey . . . . bend down to me, Rub to me with your chafing beard . . rub to my
And I stood before the young man face to face, and took his right hand in my left hand and his left hand
in my right hand, And I answered for his brother and for men . . . . and I answered for the poet, and
to the President at his levee, And he says Good day my brother, to Cudge that hoes in the sugarfield;
Then the mechanics take him for a mechanic, And the soldiers suppose him to be a captain . . . . and
Leaves of Grass, "Who Learns My Lesson Complete?" WHO learns my lesson complete?
as every one is immortal, I know it is wonderful . . . . but my eyesight is equally wonderful . . . .
and how I was conceived in my mother's womb is equally wonderful, And how I was not palpable once but
thirty-six years old in 1855 . . . . and that I am here anyhow—are all equally wonderful; And that my
my soul!
We closed with him, the yards entangled, the can- non cannon touched, My captain lashed fast with his
I laughed content when I heard the voice of my little captain, We have not struck, he composedly cried
O my body!
my brother or my sister! Keep on!
I rubbed my eyes a little, to see if this sunbeam were no illusion; but the solid sense of the book is
I wish to see my benefactor, and have felt much like striking my tasks and visiting New York to pay you
my respects.
people and The States face to face, to confront them with an American rude tongue; but the work of my
A few years, and the average annual call for my Poems is ten or twenty thousand copies—more, quite likely
It is all as well done, in my opinion, as could be practicable. Each element here is in condition.
out the lines, build cities, work mines, break up farms; it is yours to have been the original true Captain
not Walt Whitman, might have written this: I too am not a bit tamed—I too am untranslatable, I sound my
I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runaway sun; I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it
Emerson in the printed letter sent to us—"I rubbed my eyes a little, to see if this sunbeam were no illusion
my soul!
my palms cover continents, I am afoot with my vision.
We closed with him, the yards entangled, the can- non cannon touched, My captain lashed fast with his
I laughed content when I heard the voice of my little captain, We have not struck, he composedly cried
Come my children, Come my boys and girls, my women, household, intimates, Now the performer launches
Unfolded only out of the inimitable poem of the woman can come the poems of man — only thence have my
O TAKE my hand, Walt Whitman! Such gliding wonders! Such sights and sounds!
change of the light and shade, I see distant lands, as real and near to the inhabitants of them as my
see Hermes, unsuspected, dying, well-beloved, saying to the people, Do not weep for me, this is not my
I do not refuse you my hand, or prefer others before you, I do not say one word against you.
way myself, I find my home wherever there are any homes of men.
COME closer to me, Push close, my lovers, and take the best I possess, Yield closer and closer, and give
Neither a servant nor a master am I, I take no sooner a large price than a small price —I will have my
become so for your sake, If you remember your foolish and outlawed deeds, do you think I cannot remember my
this day just as much in love with them as you, Then I am eternally in love with you, and with all my
friendly companions, I intend to reach them my hand, and make as much of them as I do of men and women
untrodden and mouldy, I see no longer any axe upon it, I see the mighty and friendly emblem of the power of my
I do not vaunt my love for you, I have what I have. The axe leaps!
response, Take what I have then, (saying fain,) take the pay you approached for, Take the white tears of my
curious, breath- ing breathing , laughing flesh is enough, To pass among them, to touch any one, to rest my
As I see my soul reflected in nature, as I see through a mist, one with inexpressible com- pleteness
O my body!
are to stand or fall with the likes of the soul, I believe the likes of you shall stand or fall with my
instep, foot-ball, toes, toe-joints, the heel, All attitudes, all the shapeliness, all the belongings of my
myself make the only growth by which I can be appreciated, I reject none, accept all, reproduce all in my
Have you studied out my land, its idioms and men?
What is this you bring my America? Is it uniform with my country?
Will it absorb into me as I absorb food, air, nobility, meanness—to appear again in my strength, gait
Underneath all is nativity, I swear I will stand by my own nativity—pious or impious, so be it!
withdraw from the still woods I loved, I will not go now on the pastures to walk, I will not strip my
clothes from my body to meet my lover the sea, I will not touch my flesh to the earth, as to other flesh
I do not see any of it upon you today—or per- haps perhaps I am deceived, I will run a furrow with my
plough—I will press my spade through the sod, and turn it up underneath, I am sure I shall expose some
That it is safe to allow it to lick my naked body all over with its tongues!
Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you be my poem, I whisper with my lips close to your
O I have been dilatory and dumb, I should have made my way straight to you long ago, I should have blabbed
light, But I paint myriads of heads, but paint no head without its nimbus of gold-colored light, From my
walks home late at night, or as I lay in my bed, they came upon me.
, That I was, I knew was of my body, and what I should be, I knew I should be of my body.
Manhatta, my river and sun-set, and my scallop-edged waves of flood-tide, the sea-gulls oscillating
face, Which fuses me into you now, and pours my meaning into you.
loudly and mu- sically musically call me by my nighest name! Live, old life!
You objects that call from diffusion my meanings and give them shape!
Why are there men and women that while they are nigh me the sun-light expands my blood?
Why when they leave me do my pennants of joy sink flat and lank?
It is safe—I have tried it—my own feet have tried it well. Allons! be not detained!
I give you my hand!
It is I, you women—I make my way, I am stern, acrid, large, undissuadable—but I love you, I do not hurt
babes I beget upon you are to beget babes in their turn, I shall demand perfect men and women out of my
And I stood before the young man face to face, and took his right hand in my left hand, and his left
hand in my right hand, And I answered for his brother, and for men, and I answered for the poet, and
to the President at his levee, And he says, Good-day, my brother!
Then the mechanics take him for a mechanic, And the soldiers suppose him to be a captain, and the sailors
distinctly I comprehend no better sphere than this earth, I comprehend no better life than the life of my
I do not know what follows the death of my body, But I know well that whatever it is, it is best for
I am not uneasy but I shall have good housing to myself, 11* But this is my first—how can I like the
, I suppose the pink nipples of the breasts of women with whom I shall sleep will taste the same to my
lips, But this is the nipple of a breast of my mother, always near and always divine to me, her true
ALL day I have walked the city and talked with my friends, and thought of prudence, Of time, space, reality—of
do not doubt there is more in myself than I have supposed—and more in all men and women —and more in my
my brother or my sister! Keep on!
REALISM is mine, my miracles, Take all of the rest—take freely—I keep but my own—I give only of them,
As to me, I know of nothing else but miracles, Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan, Or dart my sight
any one I love—or sleep in the bed at night with any one I love, Or sit at the table at dinner with my
perfect old man, or the perfect old woman, Or the sick in hospitals, or the dead carried to burial, Or my
Receive me and my lover too—he will not let me go without him.
Darkness, you are gentler than my lover!
I descend my western course, my sinews are flaccid, Perfume and youth course through me, and I am their
carefully darn my grand-son's stockings.
How he informs against my brother and sister, and takes pay for their blood!
Features of my equals, would you trick me with your creased and cadaverous march?
I saw the face of the most smeared and slobbering idiot they had at the asylum, And I knew for my consolation
what they knew not, I knew of the agents that emptied and broke my brother, The same wait to clear the
she blushingly cries—Come nigh to me, limber-hipp'd man, and give me your finger and thumb, Stand at my
upon you, Fill me with albescent honey, bend down to me, Rub to me with your chafing beard, rub to my
THE friend I am happy with, The arm of my friend hanging idly over my shoulder, The hill-side whitened
pressed and glued together with love, Earth of chaste love—life that is only life after love, The body of my
and trembling encirling fingers—the young man all colored, red, ashamed, angry; The souse upon me of my
eats in me day and night with hungry gnaw, till I saturate what shall pro- duce produce boys to fill my
WHO learns my lesson complete? Boss, journeyman, apprentice? churchman and atheist?
as every one is immortal, I know it is wonderful—but my eye-sight is equally wonderful, and how I was
con- ceived conceived in my mother's womb is equally wonderful, And how I was not palpable once, but
years old in the Year 79 of America, and that I am here anyhow, are all equally wonderful, And that my
and let one line of my poem contradict another! Let the people sprawl with yearning aimless hands!
Let him who is without my poems be assas- sinated assassinated !
without shame or the need of shame Air, soil, water, fire, these are words, I myself am a word with them—my
qualities interpenetrate with theirs—my name is noth- ing nothing to them, Though it were told in the
three thousand lan- guages languages , what would air, soil, water, fire, know of my name?
When I undertake to tell the best, I find I can- not cannot , My tongue is ineffectual on its pivots,
My breath will not be obedient to its organs, I become a dumb man.
How perfect is my soul! How perfect the earth, and the minutest thing upon it!
My soul! if I realize you, I have satisfaction, Animals and vegetables!
I cannot define my satisfaction, yet it is so, I cannot define my life, yet it is so.
my Soul!
We closed with him—the yards entangled—the cannon touched, My captain lashed fast with his own hands.
I laughed content when I heard the voice of my little captain, We have not struck, he composedly cried
O the real life of my senses and flesh, transcending my senses and flesh; O my body, done with materials—my
my brother or my sister! Keep on!
Have you studied out MY LAND, its idioms and men?
What is this you bring my America? Is it uniform with my country?
in your and my name, the Present time.
Open mouth of my Soul, uttering gladness, Eyes of my Soul, seeing perfection, Natural life of me, faithfully
To prepare for sleep, for bed—to look on my rose- colored flesh, To be conscious of my body, so amorous
body to meet my lover the sea, I will not touch my flesh to the earth, as to other flesh, to renew me
and which are my miracles?
friends, but listen to my enemies—as I my- self myself do; I charge you, too, forever, reject those
WHO learns my lesson complete?
Me, ruthless and devilish as any, that my wrists are not chained with iron, or my ankles with iron?
O MY children! O mates!
O my body!
, Or that touches my face, or leans against me.)
songs in sex, Offspring of my loins. 13.
voice—approach, Touch me—touch the palm of your hand to my body as I pass, Be not afraid of my body.
O blossoms of my blood!
face—from my forehead and lips, From my breast—from within where I was con- cealed concealed —Press
CITY of my walks and joys!
my likeness!
, Here I shade down and hide my thoughts—I do not expose them, And yet they expose me more than all my
Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you be my poem, I whisper with my lips close to your
O I have been dilatory and dumb, I should have made my way straight to you long ago, I should have blabbed
paint myriads of heads, but paint no head with- out without its nimbus of gold-colored light, From my
my brother or my sister! Keep on!
Softly I lay my right hand upon you—you just feel it, I do not argue—I bend my head close, and half-
it harmed me, giving others the same chances and rights as myself—As if it were not indispensable to my
AS I sit with others, at a great feast, suddenly, while the music is playing, To my mind, (whence it
if that were not the resumé; Of Histories—As if such, however complete, were not less complete than my
poems; As if the shreds, the records of nations, could possibly be as lasting as my poems; As if here
36 DESPAIRING cries float ceaselessly toward me, day and night, The sad voice of Death—the call of my
alarmed, uncertain, This sea I am quickly to sail, come tell me, Come tell me where I am speeding—tell me my
home in Kanuck woods, Or wandering and hunting, my drink water, my diet meat, Or withdrawn to muse and
In the Year 80 of The States, My tongue, every atom of my blood, formed from this soil, this air, Born
Take my leaves, America!
My comrade!
steamers steaming through my poems!
, My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the passing of blood and air through my lungs
my bare-stript heart, And reached till you felt my beard, and reached till you held my feet.
my Soul!
We closed with him—the yards entangled—the cannon touched, My captain lashed fast with his own hands.
I laughed content when I heard the voice of my little captain, We have not struck, he composedly cried