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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.

HERE the frailest leaves of me, and yet my strongest- lasting 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.

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?

My Likeness! EARTH! MY LIKENESS! EARTH! my likeness!

—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.

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

That Shadow, My Likeness. That Shadow, my Likeness.

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

where it flits; How often I question and doubt whether that is really me; —But in these, and among my

lovers, and caroling my songs, O I never doubt whether that is really me.

I meant that you should discover me so, by my faint indirections; And I, when I meet you, mean to discover

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-beloved, 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

I have run through what any river or strait of the globe has run through; I have taken my stand on the

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,

, 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

my lands are inevitably united, and made ONE IDENTITY; Nativities, climates, the grass of the great

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!

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 detain'd!

I give you my hand!

all—aplomb in the midst of irrational things, Imbued as they—passive, receptive, silent as they, Finding my

woods, or of any farm-life of These States, or of the coast, or the lakes, or Kanada, Me, wherever my

As I Lay With My Head in Your Lap, Camerado. As I Lay with my Head in your Lap, Camerado.

As I lay with my head in your lap, Camerado, The confession I made I resume—what I said to you and the

open air I resume: I know I am restless, and make others so; I know my words are weapons, full of danger

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. 7 It is not

mast- hemm'd mast-hemm'd Manhattan, My river and sun-set, and my scallop-edg'd waves of flood-tide,

face, Which fuses me into you now, and pours my meaning into you.

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

WITH ANTECEDENTS. 1 WITH antecedents; With my fathers and mothers, and the accumulations of past ages

to-day and America could no-how be better than they are. 3 In the name of These States, and in your and my

name, the Past, And in the name of These States, and in your and my name, the Present time.

Now List to My Morning's Romanza.

NOW LIST TO MY MORNING'S ROMANZA. 1 Now list to my morning's romanza—I tell the signs of the Answerer

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 an- swer answer for him that

to the President at his levee, And he says, Good-day, my brother!

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 com- pleteness

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

instep, foot-ball, toes, toe-joints, the heel; All attitudes, all the shapeliness, all the belongings of my

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

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 hill-side whiten'd with blossoms of the mountain ash, The same, late

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

chastity of paternity, to match the great chastity of maternity, The oath of procreation I have sworn—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!

afterwards lose you. 2 (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 separated; Behold the great rondure—the

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

Give me the drench of my passions! Give me life coarse and rank!

with the dancers, and drink with the drinkers; The echoes ring with our indecent calls; I take for my

love some prostitute—I pick out some low person for my dearest friend, He shall be lawless, rude, illiterate—he

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, architec-

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

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

songs in Sex, Offspring of my loins.

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.

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.

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

publish'd—from the pleasures, profits, eruditions, 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 yield, 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?

don'd abandon'd ; Therefore release me now, before troubling yourself any further—Let go your hand from my

those know me best who admire me, and vaunt- ingly 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

stopping 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 em- brace embrace my arms or neck, They, the spirits of dear friends

lilac, with a branch of pine, Here, out of my pocket, some moss which I pull'd off a live-oak in Florida

from the water by the pond-side, that I reserve, I will give of it—but only to them that love, as I 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

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

changed points of view; —To me, these, and the like of these, are curiously an- swer'd 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 fol- low'd follow'd ; And else, when I carous'd, 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 nourish'd me more—and the beautiful day pass'd 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

perfumes, nor the high, rain- emitting 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 drops—confession

nor the bright win- dows windows , with goods in them; Nor to converse with learn'd persons, or bear my

your frequent and swift flash of eyes offering me love, Offering response to my own—these repay me; Lovers

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

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

with me, I ate with you, and slept with you—your body has be- come 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,

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

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 sister Martha at St. Louis was not in good health at last accounts.

will tell you further—Beulah asked much about you & William, and Jeannie— Nothing special with me or my

As it turns out, my death by railroad smash permeated the lower orders, (I suppose at second & third

My true love to you both—Jeannie, my darling, a kiss for you—good bye, Nelly dear— Walt The following

Understand that, like the new year's Bible, the Photo is a gift, with my best love, to you & William—to