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daughters, sons, preluding, The love, the life of their bodies, meaning and being, Curious here behold my

cycles in their wide sweep having brought me again, Amorous, mature, all beautiful to me, all wondrous, My

wondrous, Existing I peer and penetrate still, Content with the present, content with the past, By my

I were nothing, From what I am determin'd to make illustrious, even if I stand sole among men, From my

at random, Renascent with grossest Nature or among animals, Of that, of them and what goes with them my

The oath of the inseparableness of two together, of the woman that loves me and whom I love more than my

the right person not near, From the soft sliding of hands over me and thrusting of fingers through my

beautiful, curious, breathing, laughing flesh is enough, To pass among them or touch any one, or rest my

As I see my soul reflected in Nature, As I see through a mist, One with inexpressible completeness, sanity

For they do not conceal themselves, and cannot conceal themselves. 9 O my body!

likes of the soul, (and that they are the soul,) I believe the likes of you shall stand or fall with my

poems, and that they are my poems, Man's, woman's, child's, youth's, wife's, husband's, mother's, father's

It is I, you women, I make my way, I am stern, acrid, large, undissuadable, but I love you, I do not

babes I beget upon you are to beget babes in their turn, I shall demand perfect men and women out of my

SPONTANEOUS me, Nature, The loving day, the mounting sun, the friend I am happy with, The arm of my friend

hanging idly over my shoulder, The hillside whiten'd with blossoms of the mountain ash, The same late

and glued together with love, Earth of chaste love, life that is only life after love, The body of my

trembling encircling fingers, the young man all color'd, red, ashamed, angry; The souse upon me of my

greed that eats me day and night with hungry gnaw, till I saturate what shall produce boys to fill my

What do my shouts amid lightnings and raging winds mean?)

(I bequeath them to you my children, I tell them to you, for reasons, O bridegroom and bride.)

To rise thither with my inebriate soul! To be lost if it must be so!

Now we have met, we have look'd, we are safe, Return in peace to the ocean my love, I too am part of

that ocean my love, we are not so much sepa- rated separated , Behold the great rondure, the cohesion

little space—know you I salute the air, the ocean and the land, Every day at sundown for your dear sake my

Deliriate, thus prelude what is generated, offering these, offering myself, Bathing myself, bathing my

songs in Sex, Offspring of my loins.

moments—when you come upon me—ah you are here now, Give me now libidinous joys only, Give me the drench of my

and drink with the drinkers, The echoes ring with our indecent calls, I pick out some low person for my

one condemn'd by others for deeds done, I will play a part no longer, why should I exile myself from my

ONCE I pass'd through a populous city imprinting my brain for future use with its shows, architecture

Italian tenor singing at the opera, I heard the soprano in the midst of the quartet singing; Heart of my

you too I heard murmuring low through one of the wrists around my head, Heard the pulse of you when all

was still ringing little bells last night under my ear.

over waves, towards the house of maternity, the land of migrations, look afar, Look off the shores of my

early in the morning, Walking forth from the bower refresh'd with sleep, Behold me where I pass, hear my

voice, approach, Touch me, touch the palm of your hand to my body as I pass, Be not afraid of my body

hitherto publish'd, from the pleasures, profits, conformities, Which too long I was offering to feed my

soul, Clear to me now standards not yet publish'd, clear to me that my soul, That the soul of the man

substantial life, Bequeathing hence types of athletic love, Afternoon this delicious Ninth-month in my

forty-first year, I proceed for all who are or have been young men, To tell the secret of my nights

Scented Herbage of My Breast. SCENTED HERBAGE OF MY BREAST.

SCENTED herbage of my breast, Leaves from you I glean, I write, to be perused best afterwards, Tomb-leaves

O blossoms of my blood!

grow up out of my breast! Spring away from the conceal'd heart there!

Do not remain down there so ashamed, herbage of my breast!

Who is he that would become my follower? Who would sign himself a candidate for my affections?

be abandon'd, Therefore release me now before troubling yourself any further, let go your hand from my

acquire it, Nor do those know me best who admire me and vauntingly praise me, Nor will the candidates for my

love (unless at most a very few) prove victorious, Nor will my poems do good only, they will do just

now and then in the silence, Alone I had thought, yet soon a troop gathers around me, Some walk by my

side and some behind, and some embrace my arms or neck, They the spirits of dear friends dead or alive

something for tokens, tossing toward whoever is near me, Here, lilac, with a branch of pine, Here, out of my

Not Heaving From My Ribb'd Breast Only. NOT HEAVING FROM MY RIBB'D BREAST ONLY.

NOT heaving from my ribb'd breast only, Not in sighs at night in rage dissatisfied with myself, Not in

those long-drawn, ill-supprest sighs, Not in many an oath and promise broken, Not in my wilful and savage

soul's volition, Not in the subtle nourishment of the air, Not in this beating and pounding at my temples

O pulse of my life! Need I that you exist and show yourself any more than in these songs.

knows, aught of them,) May-be seeming to me what they are (as doubtless they indeed but seem) as from my

, from entirely changed points of view; To me these and the like of these are curiously answer'd by my

lovers, my dear friends, When he whom I love travels with me or sits a long while holding me by the

appearances or that of identity beyond the grave, But I walk or sit indifferent, I am satisfied, He ahold of my

I will take you down underneath this impassive exterior, I will tell you what to say of me, Publish my

name and hang up my picture as that of the tenderest lover, The friend the lover's portrait, of whom

WHEN I heard at the close of the day how my name had been receiv'd with plaudits in the capitol, still

it was not a happy night for me that follow'd, And else when I carous'd, or when my plans were accomplish'd

and undressing bathed, laughing with the cool waters, and saw the sun rise, And when I thought how my

dear friend my lover was on his way coming, O then I was happy, O then each breath tasted sweeter, and

all that day my food nourish'd me more, and the beautiful day pass'd well, And the next came with equal

down-balls nor perfumes, nor the high rain-emitting clouds, are borne through the open air, Any more than my

my blue veins leaving! O drops of me!

from me falling, drip, bleeding drops, From wounds made to free you whence you were prison'd, From my

face, from my forehead and lips, From my breast, from within where I was conceal'd, press forth red

the streets, nor the bright windows with goods in them, Nor to converse with learn'd persons, or bear my

as I pass O Manhattan, your frequent and swift flash of eyes offering me love, Offering response to my

BEHOLD this swarthy face, these gray eyes, This beard, the white wool unclipt upon my neck, My brown

upon it, and twined around it a little moss, And brought it away, and I have placed it in sight in my

room, It is not needed to remind me as of my own dear friends, (For I believe lately I think of little

or a girl with me, I ate with you and slept with you, your body has become not yours only nor left my

body mine only, You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass, you take of my beard

dialects, And it seems to me if I could know those men I should become attached to them as I do to men in my

HERE the frailest leaves of me and yet my strongest lasting, Here I shade and hide my thoughts, I myself

do not expose them, And yet they expose me more than all my other poems.

Earth, My Likeness. EARTH, MY LIKENESS.

EARTH, my likeness, Though you look so impassive, ample and spheric there, I now suspect that is not

What Think You I Take My Pen in Hand? WHAT THINK YOU I TAKE MY PEN IN HAND?

WHAT think you I take my pen in hand to record?

is no unreturn'd love, the pay is certain one way or another, (I loved a certain person ardently and my

Then separate, as disembodied or another born, Ethereal, the last athletic reality, my consolation, I

ascend, I float in the regions of your love O man, O sharer of my roving life.

That Shadow My Likeness. THAT SHADOW MY LIKENESS.

THAT shadow my likeness that goes to and fro seeking a liveli- hood livelihood , chattering, chaffering

and looking at it where it flits, How often I question and doubt whether that is really me; But among my

When you read these I that was visible am become invisible, Now it is you, compact, visible, realizing my

1 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-belov'd, saying to the people Do not weep for me, This is not my

race, I see the results of the perseverance and industry of my race, I see ranks, colors, barbarisms

side.) 13 My spirit has pass'd in compassion and determination around the whole earth, I have look'd

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 sunlight 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—be not detain'd!

Camerado, I give you my hand!

than you suppose, And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence are more to me, and more in my

forever held in solution, I too had receiv'd identity by my body, That I was I knew was of my body,

What is more subtle than this which ties me to the woman or man that looks in my face?

Which fuses me into you now, and pours my meaning into you? We understand then do we not?

loudly and musically call me by my nighest name! Live, old life!

SONG OF THE ANSWERER. 1 NOW list to my morning's romanza, I tell the signs of the Answerer, To the cities

And I stand before the young man face to face, and take his right hand in my left hand and his left hand

in my right hand, And I answer for his brother and for men, and I answer for him that answers for all

landscape, people, animals, The profound earth and its attributes and the unquiet ocean, (so tell I my

to the President at his levee, And he says Good-day my brother, to Cudge that hoes in the sugar-field

New Orleans, San Francisco, The departing ships when the sailors heave at the capstan; Evening—me in my

room—the setting sun, The setting summer sun shining in my open window, showing the swarm of flies,

freedom, futurity, In space the sporades, the scatter'd islands, the stars—on the firm earth, the lands, my

thereof—and no less in myself than the whole of the Mannahatta in itself, Singing the song of These, my

ever-united lands—my body no more inevitably united, part to part, and made out of a thousand diverse

O I cruise my old cruise again!

My children and grand-children, my white hair and beard, My largeness, calmness, majesty, out of the

long stretch of my life.

my senses and flesh, My body done with materials, my sight done with my material eyes, Proved to me

this day beyond cavil that it is not my material eyes which finally see, Nor my material body which finally

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!

Yes, if you will allow me to say so, I, my friends, if you do not, can plainly see her, The same undying

I say I see, my friends, if you do not, the illustrious emigré, (having it is true in her day, although

4 But hold—don't I forget my manners?

Hence from my shuddering sight to never more return that show of blacken'd, mutilated corpses!

And by the spells which ye vouchsafe to those your ministers in earnest, I here personify and call my

Farewell my brethren, Farewell O earth and sky, farewell ye neighboring waters, My time has ended, my

heard not, As the wood-spirits came from their haunts of a thousand years to join the refrain, But in my

many a summer sun, And the white snows and night and the wild winds; O the great patient rugged joys, my

Neither a servant nor a master I, I take no sooner a large price than a small price, I will have my own

become so for your sake, If you remember your foolish and outlaw'd deeds, do you think I cannot remember my

are, I am this day just as much in love with them as you, Then I am in love with You, and with all my

List close my scholars dear, Doctrines, politics and civilization exurge from you, Sculpture and monuments

friendly companions, I intend to reach them my hand, and make as much of them as I do of men and women

Air, soil, water, fire—those are words, I myself am a word with them—my qualities interpenetrate with

theirs—my name is nothing to them, Though it were told in the three thousand languages, what would air

, soil, water, fire, know of my name?

When I undertake to tell the best I find I cannot, My tongue is ineffectual on its pivots, My breath

COME my tan-faced children, Follow well in order, get your weapons ready, Have you your pistols?

For we cannot tarry here, We must march my darlings, we must bear the brunt of danger, We the youthful

O my breast aches with tender love for all!

See my children, resolute children, By those swarms upon our rear we must never yield or falter, Ages

I too with my soul and body, We, a curious trio, picking, wandering on our way, Through these shores

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 blabb'd

I paint myriads of heads, but paint no head without its nim- bus nimbus of gold-color'd light, From my

I walk'd the shores of my Eastern sea, Heard over the waves the little voice, Saw the divine infant where

and cogent I maintain the bequeath'd cause, as for all lands, And I send these words to Paris with my

Let me have my own way, Let others promulge the laws, I will make no account of the laws, Let others

I call to the world to distrust the accounts of my friends, but listen to my enemies, as I myself do,