I teach straying from me-yet who can stray from me?
I follow you, whoever you are, from the present hour;
My words itch at your ears till you understand them.

I do not say these things for a dollar, or to fill up the time while I wait for a boat;

It is you talking just as much as myself—I act as the tongue of

you;

Tied' in your mouth, in mine it begins to be loosen'd.

I swear I will never again' mention love or death inside a house,

And I swear I will never translate myself at all, only to him or her who privately stays with me in the open air.

If you would understand me, go to the heights or water shore; The nearest gnat is an explanation, and a drop or motion of waves a key;

The maul, the oar, the hand-saw, second my words.

No shutter'd room or school can commune with me,
But roughs and little children better than they.

1250

The young mechanic is closest to me--he knows me well; The woodman, that takes his axe and jug with him, shall take me with him all day;

The farm-boy, ploughing in the field, feels good at the sound of my voice;

In vessels that sail, my words sail-I go with fishermen and seamen, and love them.

The soldier camp'd, or upon the march, is mine;

On the night ere the pending battle, many seek me, and I do not fail them;

On the solemn night (it may be their last,) those that know me, seek me.'

1260

My face rubs to the hunter's face, when he lies down alone in his blanket;

11855 '56 read "It was tied,” etc.
216 again" added in 1860.

8 1855 reads "words must sail," etc.
Lines 1258-59-60 added in 1867.

The driver, thinking of me, does not mind the jolt of his

wagon;

The young mother and old mother comprehend me;

The girl and the wife rest the needle a moment, and forget where they are ;

They and all would resume what I have told them.

48

I have said that the soul is not more than the body,

And I have said that the body is not more than the soul;
And nothing, not God, is greater to one than one's self is,
And whoever walks a furlong without sympathy, walks to his
own funeral, drest in his shroud,

And I or you, pocketless of a dime, may purchase the pick of the earth, 1270

And to glance with an eye, or show a bean in its pod, confounds the learning of all times,

And there is no trade or employment but the young man following it may become a hero,

And there is no object so soft but it makes a hub for the wheel'd universe,

And I say to any man or woman,' Let your soul stand cool and composed before a million universes.

And I say to mankind, Be not curious about God,

For I, who am curious about each, am not curious about God; (No array of terms can say how much I am at peace about God, and about death.)

I hear and behold God in every object, yet understand God not in the least,

Nor do I understand who there can be more wonderful than

myself.

Why should I wish to see God better than this day?

1280

I see something of God each hour of the twenty-four, and each moment then;

In the faces of men and women I see God, and in my own face

in the glass;

I find letters from God dropt in the street-and every one is sign'd by God's name,

1 1855 '56 '60 read "And any man or woman shall stand cool and supercilious before a million universes."

* 1855 '56 '60. For "say " read "call."

And I leave them where they are, for I know that wheresoe'er I go,'

Others will punctually come forever and ever.

49

And as to you Death, and you bitter hug of mortality, it is idle to try to alarm me.

To his work without flinching the accoucheur comes;
I see the elder-hand, pressing, receiving, supporting;
I recline by the sills of the exquisite flexible doors,
And mark the outlet, and mark the relief and escape.

1290

And as to you, Corpse, I think you are good manure-but that does not offend me ;

I smell the white roses sweet-scented and growing,

I reach to the leafy lips-I reach to the polish'd breasts of melons.

And as to you Life, I reckon you are the leavings of many deaths; (No doubt I have died myself ten thousand times before.)

I hear you whispering there, O stars of heaven ;

O suns! O grass of graves! O perpetual transfers and promotions !

If you do not say anything, how can I say anything?

Of the turbid pool that lies in the autumn forest,

Of the moon that descends the steeps of the soughing twilight,

1300

Toss, sparkles of day and dusk! toss on the black stems that

decay in the muck!

Toss to the moaning gibberish of the dry limbs.

I ascend from the moon, I ascend from the night;

I perceive that the ghastly glimmer is noonday sunbeams re

flected ;2

And debouch to the steady and central from the offspring great or small.

1 "wheresoe'er I go" added in 1867.

21855 reads "And perceive of the ghastly glitter the sunbeams reflected." 1856 reads "And perceive of the ghastly glimmer the sunbeams reflected." 1860 reads "I perceive of the ghastly glimmer the sunbeam, reflected."

50

There is that in me-I do not know what it is-but I know it is

in me.

Wrench'd and sweaty-calm and cool then my body becomes;
I sleep--I sleep long.

I do not know it-it is without name-it is a word unsaid;
It is not in any dictionary, utterance, symbol.

Something it swings on more than the earth I swing on ;
To it the creation is the friend whose embracing awakes me.

1310

Perhaps I might tell more. Outlines! I plead for my brothers

and sisters.

Do you see, O my brothers and sisters?

It is not chaos or death-it is form, union, plan-it is eternal life-it is HAPPINESS.

51

The past and present wilt-I have fill'd them, emptied them, And proceed to fill my next fold of the future.

Listener up there! Here, you! What have you to confide to

me?

Look in my face, while I snuff the sidle of evening;

Talk honestly-no one else hears you, and I stay only a minute longer.

Do I contradict myself?

Very well, then, I contradict myself;

(I am large-I contain multitudes.)

1320

I concentrate toward them that are nigh-I wait on the doorslab.

Who has done his day's work? Who will soonest be through with his supper?

Who wishes to walk with me?

Will you speak before I am gone? Will you prove already too

late?

52

The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me--he complains of my gab and my loitering.

I too am not a bit tamed-I too am untranslatable;

I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.

The last scud of day holds back for me;

1330

It flings my likeness after the rest, and true as any, on the shadow'd wilds;

It coaxes me to the vapor and the dusk.

I depart as air-I shake my white locks at the runaway sun;
I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags.

I bequeathe myself to the dirt, to grow from the grass I love; If you want me again, look for me under your boot-soles.

You will hardly know who I am, or what I mean;
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.

Failing to fetch me at first, keep encouraged;
Missing me one place, search another;

I stop somewhere, waiting for you.

1340

LAWS FOR CREATIONS.

First published in 1860 as No. 13" Chants Democratic,"

LAWS for Creations,

For strong artists and leaders-for fresh broods of teachers, and perfect literats for America,

For noble savans, and coming musicians.

All must have reference to the ensemble of the world, and the compact truth of the world;

There shall be no subject too pronounced-All works shall illustrate the divine law of indirections.1

"There shall be no subject but it shall be treated with reference to the ensemble of the world, and the compact truth of the world-And no coward or copyist shall be allowed;