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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

to me, As, under doughty Sherman, I march toward the sea.) 3 Me, master, years a hundred, since from my

such-like, visible here or any- where anywhere , stand provided for in a handful of space, which I extend my

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

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

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

my brother or my sister! Keep on!

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

maintain the be- queath'd bequeath'd cause, as for all lands, And I send these words to Paris with 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 blabb'd

paint myriads of heads, but paint no head with- out without its nimbus of gold-color'd light; From my

States awhile—but I cannot tell whither or how long; Perhaps soon, some day or night while I am singing, my

Of This Union, soak'd, welded in blood—of the solemn price paid—of the unnamed lost, ever present in my

passing, departing—of the growth of completer men than any yet, Of myself, soon, perhaps, closing up my

Inflating my throat—you, divine average! You, Earth and Life, till the last ray gleams, I sing.

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- color'd rose-color'd flesh; To be conscious of my body

How my thoughts play subtly at the spectacles around! How the clouds pass silently overhead!

sail'd down the Mississippi, As I wander'd over the prairies, As I have lived—As I have look'd through my

cheerfully accept, A little sustenance, a hut and garden, a little money— these, as I rendezvous with my

I remember I said, before my leaves sprang at all, I would raise my voice jocund and strong, with reference

I have press'd through in my own right, I have sung the Body and the Soul—War and Peace have I sung,

And the songs of Life and of Birth—and shown that there are many births: I have offer'd my style to every

one—I have journey'd with confident step; While my pleasure is yet at the full, I whisper, So long!

4 My songs cease—I abandon them; From behind the screen where I hid, I advance person- ally personally

We closed with him—the yards entangled—the can- non cannon touch'd; My captain lash'd fast with his own

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

Only three guns are in use; One is directed by the captain himself against the ene- my's enemy's main-mast

MY LIKENESS! EARTH! my likeness!

heart, O my soldiers, my veterans, My heart gives you love.

Bear forth to them, folded, my love —(Dear mariners!

for you I fold it here, in every leaf;) Speed on, my Book!

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

, I seek, for my own use, to trace out here.)

BEGINNING MY STUDIES.

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

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.

all was still, ringing little bells last night under my ear.

SCENTED HERBAGE OF MY BREAST.

O blossoms of my blood!

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!

That Shadow, my Likeness.

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, 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

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

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!

indifferent , but trembling with age and your unheal'd wounds, you mounted the scaffold;) —I would sing in my

know not why, but I loved you…(and so go forth little song, Far over sea speed like an arrow, carrying my

love, and drop these lines at his feet;) —Nor forget I to sing of the wonder, the ship as she swam up my

bay, Well-shaped and stately the Great Eastern swam up my bay, she was 600 feet long, Her, moving swiftly

My South! O quick mettle, rich blood, impulse, and love! Good and evil! O all dear to me!

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

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

My girl, I appoint with you an appointment—and I charge you that you make preparation to be worthy to

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

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

O my soldiers twain! O my veterans, passing to burial!

heart, O my soldiers, my veterans, My heart gives you love.

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

Features of my equals, would you trick me with your creas'd and cadaverous march?

I saw the face of the most smear'd 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

pickets, Come here, she blushingly cries—Come nigh to me, lim-ber-hipp'dlimber-hipp'd man, Stand at my

upon you, Fill me with albescent honey, bend down to me, Rub to me with your chafing beard, rub to my