Unfolded out of the sympathy of the woman is all sympathy: 10 A man is a great thing upon the earth, and through eternitybut every jot of the greatness of man is unfolded out of woman, First the man is shaped in the woman, he can then be shaped in himself. TO YOU. First published in 1860. STRANGER! if you, passing, meet me, and desire to speak to me, why should you not speak to me? And why should I not speak to you? WALT WHITMAN. First published in 1855 I CELEBRATE myself; I And what I assume you shall assume; For every atom belonging to me, as good belongs to you. I loafe and invite my Soul; I lean and loafe at my ease, observing a spear of summer grass. Houses and rooms are full of perfumes-the shelves are crowded with perfumes; I breathe the fragrance myself, and know it and like it; The atmosphere is not a perfume-it has no taste of the distillation-it is odorless; It is for my mouth forever—I am in love with it; ΙΟ I will go to the bank by the wood, and become undisguised and naked ; I am mad for it to be in contact with me. 2 The smoke of my own breath; Echoes, ripples,' buzz'd whispers, love-root, silk-thread, crotch and vine; My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the passing of blood and air through my lungs; The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore, and dark-color'd sea-rocks, and of hay in the barn; The sound of the belch'd words of my voice, words loos'd to the eddies of the wind; A few light kisses, a few embraces, a reaching around of arms; The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag; The delight alone, or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields and hill-sides; 20 The feeling of health, the full-noon trill, the song of me rising from bed and meeting the sun. Have you reckon'd a thousand acres much? have you reckon'd the earth much? Have you practis'd so long to learn to read? Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems? Stop this day and night with me, and you shall possess the origin of all poems; You shall possess the good of the earth and sun—(there are millions of suns left ;) You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books; You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me: You shall listen to all sides, and filter them from yourself. 3 I have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the beginning and the end; But I do not talk of the beginning or the end. There was never any more inception than there is now, Nor any more youth or age than there is now; And will never be any more perfection than there is now, 1 1855, “ripples and buzzed.” 30 Urge, and urge, and urge; Always the procreant urge of the world. Out of the dimness opposite equals advance—always substance and increase, always sex;1 Always a knit of identity-always distinction-always a breed of life. To elaborate is no avail-learn'd and unlearn'd feel that it is so. 40 Sure as the most certain sure, plumb in the uprights, well entretied, braced in the beams, Stout as a horse, affectionate, haughty, electrical, I and this mystery, here we stand. Clear and sweet is my Soul, and clear and sweet is all that is not my Soul. Lack one lacks both, and the unseen is proved by the seen, Showing the best, and dividing it from the worst, age vexes age; Knowing the perfect fitness and equanimity of things, while they discuss I am silent, and go bathe and admire myself. Welcome is every organ and attribute of me, and of any man hearty and clean; Not an inch, nor a particle of an inch, is vile, and none shall be less familiar than the rest. 50 I am satisfied-I see, dance, laugh, sing: As the hugging and loving Bed-fellow' sleeps at my side through the night, and withdraws at the peep of the day,3 with stealthy tread, Leaving me baskets cover'd with white towels, swelling the house with their plenty, 1 "always sex" added in 1856. 2 1855 reads "As God comes a loving bed-fellow and sleeps at my side all night and close on the peep of the day, And leaves for me baskets covered with white towels bulging the house with their plenty. "with stealthy tread" added in 1867. |