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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.
It was later reprinted in Good-Bye My Fancy (1891), under the title American National Literature before
philosopher's life in the quiet woodland ways, Where if I cannot be gay let a passionless peace be my
And my heart is a handful of dust, And the wheels go over my head, And my bones are shaken with pain,
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."
I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.
"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."
"I am the teacher of Athletes; He that by me spreads a wider breast than my own, proves the width of
my own; He most honors my style who learns under it to destroy the teacher; The boy I love, the same