What is the count of the scores or hundreds of years between us? Whatever it is, it avails not—distance avails not, and place avails not. I too lived—Brooklyn, of ample hills, was mine; I too walked the streets of Manhattan Island, and bathed in the waters around it; I too felt the curious abrupt questionings stir within me; In the day, among crowds of people, sometimes they came upon me, In my walks home late at night, or as I lay in my bed, they came upon me. I too had been struck from the float forever held in solution, I too had received identity by my Body; That I was, I knew, was of my body—and what I should be, I knew, I should be of my body. It is not upon you alone the dark patches fall, The best I had done seemed to me blank and suspicious; My great thoughts, as I supposed them, were they not in reality meagre ? would not people laugh at me? It is not you alone who know what it is to be evil; I am he who knew what it was to be evil; I too knitted the old knot of contrariety, Blabbed, blushed, resented, lied, stole, grudged, Had guile, anger, lust, hot wishes I dared not speak, malignant ; The wolf, the snake, the hog, not wanting in me, The cheating look, the frivolous word, the adulterous wish, not wanting, Refusals, hates, postponements, meanness, laziness, none of these wanting. But I was Manhattanese, friendly and proud! I was called by my nighest name by clear loud voices of young men as they saw me approaching or passing, Felt their arms on my neck as I stood, or the negligent leaning of their flesh against me as I sat, Saw many I loved in the street, or ferry-boat, or public assembly, yet never told them a word, Lived the same life with the rest, the same old laughing, gnawing, sleeping, Played the part that still looks back on the actor or actress, The same old role, the role that is what we make it,—as great as we like, Or as small as we like, or both great and small. Closer yet I approach you; What thought you have of me, I had as much of you—I laid in my stores in advance; I considered long and seriously of you before you were born. Who was to know what should come home to me? Who knows but I am enjoying this? Who knows but I am as good as looking at you now, for you cannot see me? all It is not you alone, nor I alone; Not a few races, nor a few generations, nor a few centuries; It is that each came or comes or shall come from its due emission, without fail, either now or then or henceforth. Everything indicates the smallest does, and the largest does; A necessary film envelops all, and envelops the Soul for a proper time. Now I am curious what sight can ever be more stately and admirable to me than my mast-hemmed Manhatta, My river and sun-set, and my scallop-edged waves of flood-tide, The sea-gulls oscillating their bodies, the hay-boat in the twilight, and the belated lighter; Curious what Gods can exceed these that clasp me by the hand, and with voices I love call me promptly and loudly by my nighest name as I approach; Curious what is more subtle than this which ties me to the woman or man that looks in my face, Which fuses me into you now, and pours my meaning into you. We understand, then, do we not ? What I promised without mentioning it have you not accepted? What the study could not teach—what the preaching could not accomplish, is accomplished, is it not? What the push of reading could not start, is started by me personally, is it not? 4. Flow on, river! flow with the flood-tide, and ebb with the ebb-tide! Frolic on, crested and scallop-edged waves! Gorgeous clouds of the sun-set, drench with your splendour me, or the men and women generations after me! Cross from shore to shore, countless crowds of passengers! Stand up, tall masts of Mannahatta ! —stand up, beautiful hills of Brooklyn! Bully for you! you proud, friendly, free Manhattanese! Throb, baffled and curious brain! throw out questions and answers! Suspend here and everywhere, eternal float of solution! Blab, blush, lie, steal, you or I or anyone after us! Gaze, loving and thirsting eyes, in the house, or street, or public assembly! Sound out, voices of young men! loudly and musically call me by my nighest name! Live, old life! play the part that looks back on the actor or actress! Play the old role, the role that is great or small, according as one makes it! Consider, you who peruse me, whether I may not in unknown ways be looking upon you; Be firm, rail over the river, to support those who lean idly, yet haste with the hasting current : Fly on, sea-birds! fly sideways, or wheel in large circles high in the air; Receive the summer sky, you water! and faithfully hold it, till all downcast eyes have time to take it from you; Diverge, fine spokes of light, from the shape of my head, or anyone's head, in the sun-lit water; Come on, ships from the lower bay! pass up or down, white-sailed schooners, sloops, lighters! Flaunt away, flags of all nations! be duly lowered at sunset; |