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Leaves of Grass (1860)
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8.
| 1 SPLENDOR of falling day, floating and filling me, |
| Hour prophetic—hour resuming the past, |
| Inflating my throat—you, divine average! |
| You, Earth and Life, till the last ray gleams, I sing. |
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| 2 Open mouth of my Soul, uttering gladness, |
| Eyes of my Soul, seeing perfection, |
| Natural life of me, faithfully praising things, |
| Corroborating forever the triumph of things. |
| 3 Illustrious every one! |
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Illustrious what we name space—sphere of unnum-
bered spirits, |
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Illustrious the mystery of motion, in all beings, even
the tiniest insect, |
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Illustrious the attribute of speech—the senses—the
body, |
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Illustrious the passing light! Illustrious the pale
reflection on the moon in the western sky! |
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Illustrious whatever I see, or hear, or touch, to the
last. |
| 4 Good in all, |
| In the satisfaction and aplomb of animals, |
| In the annual return of the seasons, |
| In the hilarity of youth, |
| In the strength and flush of manhood, |
| In the grandeur and exquisiteness of old age, |
| In the superb vistas of Death. |
| 5 Wonderful to depart! |
| Wonderful to be here! |
| The heart, to jet the all-alike and innocent blood, |
| To breathe the air, how delicious! |
| To speak! to walk! to seize something by the hand! |
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To prepare for sleep, for bed—to look on my rose-
colored flesh, |
| To be conscious of my body, so amorous, so large, |
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| To be this incredible God I am, |
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To have gone forth among other Gods—those men
and women I love. |
| 6 Wonderful how I celebrate you and myself! |
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How my thoughts play subtly at the spectacles
around! |
| How the clouds pass silently overhead! |
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How the earth darts on and on! and how the sun,
moon, stars, dart on and on! |
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How the water sports and sings! (Surely it is
alive!) |
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How the trees rise and stand up—with strong trunks
—with branches and leaves! |
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(Surely there is something more in each of the trees—
some living Soul.) |
| 7 O amazement of things! even the least particle! |
| O spirituality of things! |
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O strain musical, flowing through ages and continents
—now reaching me and America! |
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I take your strong chords—I intersperse them, and
cheerfully pass them forward. |
| 8 I too carol the sun, ushered, or at noon, or setting, |
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I too throb to the brain and beauty of the earth, and
of all the growths of the earth, |
| I too have felt the resistless call of myself. |
| 9 As I sailed down the Mississippi, |
| As I wandered over the prairies, |
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As I have lived—As I have looked through my
windows, my eyes, |
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As I went forth in the morning—As I beheld the
light breaking in the east, |
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As I bathed on the beach of the Eastern Sea, and
again on the beach on the Western Sea, |
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As I roamed the streets of inland Chicago—whatever
streets I have roamed, |
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Wherever I have been, I have charged myself with
contentment and triumph. |
| 10 I sing the Equalities, |
| I sing the endless finales of things, |
| I say Nature continues—Glory continues, |
| I praise with electric voice, |
| For I do not see one imperfection in the universe, |
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And I do not see one cause or result lamentable at
last in the universe. |
| 11 O setting sun! O when the time comes, |
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I still warble under you, if none else does, unmiti-
gated adoration! |