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you read these, I, that was visible, am become invisible; Now it is you, compact, visible, realizing my
you suppose, And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence, are more to me, and more in 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
loudly and musically call me by my nighest name! Live, old life!
My South! O quick mettle, rich blood, impulse, and love! Good and evil! O all dear to me!
O dear to me my birth-things—All moving things, and the trees where I was born—the grains, plants, rivers
; Dear to me my own slow sluggish rivers where they flow, distant, over flats of silvery sands, or through
the Tombigbee, the Santee, the Coosa, and the Sabine; O pensive, far away wandering, I return with my
the graceful palmetto; I pass rude sea-headlands and enter Pamlico Sound through an inlet, and dart 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!
MY spirit to yours, dear brother, Do not mind because many, sounding your name, do not understand you
I do not sound your name, but I understand you, (there are others also;) I specify you with joy, O my
divisions, jealousies, recriminations on every side, They close peremptorily upon us, to surround us, my
Softly I lay my right hand upon you—you just feel it, I do not argue—I bend my head close, and half-
I exclude you, Not till the waters refuse to glisten for you, and the leaves to rustle for you, do my
My girl, I appoint with you an appointment—and I charge you that you make preparation to be worthy to
cheerfully accept, A little sustenance, a hut and garden, a little money —these as I rendezvous with my
who should serve the good old cause, the prog- ress progress and freedom of the race, the cause of my
for something to repre- sent represent the new race, our self-poised Democracy, Therefore I send you my
I WAS asking for something specific and perfect for my city, and behold!
there is in a name, a word, liquid, sane, unruly, musical, self-sufficient, I see that the word of my
my city! The city of such women, I am mad to be with them!
I walked the shores of my Eastern Sea, Heard over the waves the little voice, Saw the divine infant,
and cogent, I maintain the bequeath'd cause, as for all lands, And I send these words to Paris, with my
aught of them;) May-be they only seem 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 answered 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
Then my lands engrossed me—Lands of the prairies, Ohio's land, the southern savannas, engrossed me—For
to enclose all, it came to me to strike up the songs of the New World—And then I be- lieved believed my
knowledge, and the grandeur of The States, and the example of heroes, no more, I am indifferent to my
heavy-hearted, Hours of the dusk, when I withdraw to a lonesome and unfrequented spot, seating myself, leaning my
face in my hands; Hours sleepless, deep in the night, when I go forth, speeding swiftly the country
(I am ashamed—but it is useless—I am what I am;) Hours of my torment—I wonder if other men ever have
when you refer to me, mind not so much my poems, Nor speak of me that I prophesied of The States, and
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 received with plaudits in the capitol, still
it was not a happy night for me that fol- lowed followed ; And else, when I caroused, or when my plans
ing undressing , bathed, laughing with the cool waters, and saw the sun rise, And when I thought how my
all that day my food nourished me more—And the beautiful day passed well, And the next came with equal
joy—And with the next, at evening, came my friend; And that night, while all was still, I heard the
down-balls, nor perfumes, nor the high rain-emitting clouds, are borne through the open air, Any more than my
, from me falling—drip, bleeding drops, From wounds made to free you whence you were prisoned, From my
face—from my forehead and lips, From my breast—from within where I was con- cealed concealed —Press
May-be one is now reading this who knows some wrong-doing of my past life, Or may-be a stranger is reading
this who has secretly loved me, Or may-be one who meets all my grand assumptions and egotisms with derision
in the room where I eat or sleep, I should be satisfied, And if the corpse of any one I love, or if my
CITY of my walks and joys!
nor the bright win- dows windows , with goods in them, Nor to converse with learned persons, or bear my
your fre- quent frequent and swift flash of eyes offering me love, Offering me the response of my own—these
Behold this swarthy and unrefined face—these gray eyes, This beard—the white wool, unclipt upon my neck
, My brown hands, and the silent manner of me, with- out without charm; Yet comes one, a Manhattanese
leaves 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,
it seems to me if I could know those men better, I should become attached to them, as I do to men in my
own lands, It seems to me they are as wise, beautiful, benevolent, as any in my own lands; O I know
WHAT think you I take my pen in hand to record?
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
that was not the end of those nations, or any person of them, any more than this shall be the end of my
Thither every-day life, speech, utensils, politics, per- sons persons , estates, Thither we also, I with my
Debris 5 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
Receive me and my lover too—he will not let me go without him.
my clothes were stolen while I was abed, Now I am thrust forth, where shall I run?
I descend my western course, my sinews are flaccid, Perfume and youth course through me, and I am their
carefully darn my grandson's stockings.
How he informs against my brother and sister, and takes pay for their blood!
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.
To My Soul TO MY SOUL.
The States—but I cannot tell whither or how long; Perhaps soon, some day or night while I am singing, my
Then all may arrive to but this; The glances of my eyes, that swept the daylight, The unspeakable love
I interchanged with women, My joys in the open air—my walks through the Man- nahatta Manahatta , The
of my mouth, rude, ignorant, arrogant— my many faults and derelictions, 38* The light touches, on my
I remember I said to myself at the winter-close, before my leaves sprang at all, that I would become
a candid and unloosed summer-poet, I said I would raise my voice jocund and strong, with reference to
what was promised, When each part is peopled with free people, When there is no city on earth to lead my
I have pressed through in my own right, I have offered my style to every one—I have jour- neyed journeyed
Remember my words—I love you—I depart from materials, I am as one disembodied, triumphant, dead.
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
O longings for my dear home! O soft and sunny airs! O pensive!
O my Soul! O lips becoming tremulous, powerless! O centuries, centuries yet ahead!
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
own Soul or defiled my body, I have claimed nothing to myself which I have not carefully claimed for