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FIRST, O songs, for a prelude, Lightly strike on the stretch'd tympanum, pride and joy in my city, How

O Manhattan, my own, my peerless! O strongest you in the hour of danger, in crisis!

Forty years had I in my city seen soldiers parading; Forty years as a pageant—till unawares, the Lady

for your dear sake, O soldiers, And for you, O soul of man, and you, love of comrades; The words of my

O my father, It is so broad, it covers the whole sky! FATHER.

now the halyards have rais'd it, Side of my banner broad and blue—side of my starry banner, Discarding

eastern shore, and my western shore the same; And all between those shores, and my ever running Mississippi

, with bends and chutes; And my Illinois fields, and my Kansas fields, and my fields of Missouri; The

My limbs, my veins dilate; The blood of the world has fill'd me full—my theme is clear at last : —Banner

fire—the silence; Like a phantom far or near an occasional figure moving; The shrubs and trees, (as I left my

Beginning My Studies BEGINNING MY STUDIES.

BEGINNING my studies, the first step pleas'd me so much, The mere fact, consciousness—these forms—the

pleas'd me so much, I have never gone, and never wish'd to go, any farther, But stop and loiter all my

Why do you tremble, and clutch my hand so convul- sively convulsively ?

Aye, this is the ground; My blind eyes, even as I speak, behold it re-peopled from graves: The years

night of that, mist lifting, rain ceasing, Silent as a ghost, while they thought they were sure of him, my

him at the river-side, Down by the ferry, lit by torches, hastening the embar- cation embarcation ; My

But when my General pass'd me, As he stood in his boat, and look'd toward the coming sun, I saw something

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

2 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!

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

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

O maidens and young men I love, and that love me, What you ask of my days, those the strangest and sud

Bearing the bandages, water and sponge, Straight and swift to my wounded I go, Where they lie on the

knee, the wound in the abdo- men abdomen , These and more I dress with impassive hand—(yet deep in my

Thus in silence, in dream's projections, Returning, resuming, I thread my way through the hos- pitals

Long for my soul, hungering gymnastic, I devour'd what the earth gave me; Long I roam'd the woods of

O wild as my heart, and powerful!)

wonder, yet pensive and masterful; All the menacing might of the globe uprisen around me; Yet there with my

; Long had I walk'd my cities, my country roads, through farms, only half satisfied; One doubt, nauseous

longer wait—I am fully satisfied—I am glutted; I have witness'd the true lighting—I have witness'd my

yours—yet peace no more; In peace I chanted peace, but now the drum of war is mine; War, red war, is my

VIGIL strange I kept on the field one night, When you, my son and my comrade, dropt at my side that day

battle, the even-contested battle; Till late in the night reliev'd, to the place at last again I made my

long-drawn sigh—Long, long I gazed; Then on the earth partially reclining, sat by your side, leaning my

chin in my hands; Passing sweet hours, immortal and mystic hours with you, dearest comrade—Not a tear

, not a word; Vigil of silence, love and death—vigil for you, my son and my soldier, As onward silently

WHEN LILACS LAST IN THE DOORYARD BLOOM'D . . . 255 O CAPTAIN, MY CAPTAIN . . . . . . . . 262 HUSH'D BE

O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! O CAPTAIN! my Captain!

my Captain!

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse

or "To the Leaven'd Soil they Trod," Or "Captain! My Captain!"

Leaves of Grass (1891) COME, said my Soul, Such verses for my Body let us write, (for we are one,) That

Ever and ever yet the verses owning—as, first, I here and now, Signing for Soul and Body, set to them my

Besides, is not the verse-field, as originally plann'd by my theory, now sufficiently illustrated—and

—(indeed amid no loud call or market for my sort of poetic utterance.)

defiance, to that kind of well-put interrogation, here comes this little cluster, and conclusion of my

collated, it is worth printing (certainly I have nothing fresh to write)—I while away the hours of my

72d year—hours of forced confinement in my den—by putting in shape this small old age collation: Last

I had my choice when I commenc'd.

My Book and I—what a period we have presumed to span!

my own distinctive era and surroundings, America, Democracy?)

I felt it all as positively then in my young days as I do now in my old ones; to formulate a poem whose

But my volume is a candidate for the future.

the title of a Book, the title or description of which is in the following words, to wit: GOOD-BYE MY

work, books especially, has pass'd; and waiting till fully after that, I have given (pages 423-438) my

As I ponder'd in silence, Returning upon my poems, considering, lingering long, A Phantom arose before

Bear forth to them folded my love, (dear mariners, for you I fold it here in every leaf;) Speed on my

And so will some one when I am dead and gone write my life?

my real life, Only a few hints, a few diffused faint clews and indirections I seek for my own use to

BEGINNING MY STUDIES.

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

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

songs in Sex, Offspring of my loins.

was still ringing little bells last night under my ear.

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

SCENTED HERBAGE OF MY BREAST.

O blossoms of my blood!

EARTH, MY LIKENESS.

WHAT THINK YOU I TAKE MY PEN IN HAND? WHAT think you I take my pen in hand to record?

THAT SHADOW MY LIKENESS.

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

O my breast aches with tender love for all!

Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you be my poem, I whisper with my lips close to your

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

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

do I not see my love fluttering out among the breakers?

Loud I call to you, my love!

who I am, my love.

Hither my love! Here I am! here!

But my mate no more, no more with me! We two together no more.

LOVER divine and perfect Comrade, Waiting content, invisible yet, but certain, Be thou my God.

O Death, (for Life has served its turn,) Opener and usher to the heavenly mansion, Be thou my God.

All great ideas, the races' aspirations, All heroisms, deeds of rapt enthusiasts, Be ye my Gods.

arm and half enclose with my hand, That containing the start of each and all, the virtue, the germs

SKIRTING the river road, (my forenoon walk, my rest,) Skyward in air a sudden muffled sound, the dalliance

with bends and chutes, And my Illinois fields, and my Kansas fields, and my fields of Missouri, The

My limbs, my veins dilate, my theme is clear at last, Banner so broad advancing out of the night, I sing

VIGIL strange I kept on the field one night; When you my son and my comrade dropt at my side that day

WHILE my wife at my side lies slumbering, and the wars are over long, And my head on the pillow rests

Ah my silvery beauty—ah my woolly white and crimson! Ah to sing the song of you, my matron mighty!

O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! O CAPTAIN! my Captain!

O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain!

my Captain!

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse

But I with mournful tread, Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.

body to meet my lover the sea, I will not touch my flesh to the earth as to other flesh to renew me.

COURAGE yet, my brother or my sister!

Me ruthless and devilish as any, that my wrists are not chain'd with iron, or my ankles with iron?

WHO LEARNS MY LESSON COMPLETE? WHO learns my lesson complete?

MY PICTURE-GALLERY.

dear brothers' and sisters' sake, for the soul's sake, Wending my way through the homes of men, rich

words, mine only, Young and strong I pass knowing well I am destin'd myself to an early death; But my

charity has no death—my wisdom dies not, neither early nor late, And my sweet love bequeath'd here and

side, warlike, equal with any, real as any, Nor time nor change shall ever change me or my words. 4

Softly I lay my right hand upon you, you just feel it, I do not argue, I bend my head close and half

my special word to thee. Hear me illustrious!

lengthen- ing lengthening shadows, Prepare my starry nights.

my city! ALL IS TRUTH.

WEAVE IN, MY HARDY LIFE.

Then my realities; What else is so real as mine?

rais'd by a perfect mother, After roaming many lands, lover of populous pavements, Dweller in Mannahatta my

, Or rude in my home in Dakota's woods, my diet meat, my drink from the spring, Or withdrawn to muse

place with my own day here.

My comrade!

my intrepid nations! O I at any rate include you all with perfect love!

My voice goes after what my eyes cannot reach, With the twirl of my tongue I encompass worlds and volumes

My ties and ballasts leave me, my elbows rest in sea-gaps, I skirt sierras, my palms cover continents

We closed with him, the yards entangled, the cannon touch'd, My captain lash'd fast with his own hands

Now I laugh content, for I hear the voice of my little captain, We have not struck, he composedly cries

My lovers suffocate me, Crowding my lips, thick in the pores of my skin, Jostling me through streets

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