Published Works In Whitman's Hand Life & Letters Commentary Resources Pictures & Sound About the Archive

contents   |   previous   |   next

View Page 285

LEAVES OF GRASS.

1.

1   THINK of the Soul;

I swear to you that body of yours gives proportions          to your Soul somehow to live in other spheres;

I do not know how, but I know it is so.

2   Think of loving and being loved;

I swear to you, whoever you are, you can interfuse          yourself with such things that everybody that          sees you shall look longingly upon you.

3   Think of the past;

I warn you that in a little while, others will find their          past in you and your times.

4   The race is never separated—nor man nor woman          escapes;

All is inextricable—things, spirits, nature, nations,          you too—from precedents you come.

5   Recall the ever-welcome defiers, (The mothers pre-          cede them;)

Recall the sages, poets, saviors, inventors, lawgivers,          of the earth;

Recall Christ, brother of rejected persons—brother of          slaves, felons, idiots, and of insane and diseas'd          persons.

6   Think of the time when you was not yet born;

Think of times you stood at the side of the dying;

Think of the time when your own body will be dying.

View Page 286

7   Think of spiritual results,

Sure as the earth swims through the heavens, does          every one of its objects pass into spiritual          results.

8   Think of manhood, and you to be a man;

Do you count manhood, and the sweet of manhood,          nothing?

9   Think of womanhood, and you to be a woman;

The creation is womanhood;

Have I not said that womanhood involves all?

Have I not told how the universe has nothing better          than the best womanhood?

2.

UNFOLDED out of the folds of the woman, man comes          unfolded, and is always to come unfolded;

Unfolded only out of the superbest woman of the          earth, is to come the superbest man of the          earth;

Unfolded out of the friendliest woman, is to come the          friendliest man;

Unfolded only out of the perfect body of a woman,          can a man be form'd of perfect body;

Unfolded only out of the inimitable poem of the wo-          man, can come the poems of man—(only          thence have my poems come;)

Unfolded out of the strong and arrogant woman I          love, only thence can appear the strong and          arrogant man I love;

Unfolded by brawny embraces from the well-muscled          woman I love, only thence come the brawny          embraces of the man;

Unfolded out of the folds of the woman's brain, come          all the folds of the man's brain, duly obedient;

View Page 287

Unfolded out of the justice of the woman, all justice          is unfolded;

Unfolded out of the sympathy of the woman is all          sympathy:

A man is a great thing upon the earth, and through          eternity—but 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.

3.

1   NIGHT on the prairies;

The supper is over—the fire on the ground burns          low;

The wearied emigrants sleep, wrapt in their blankets;

I walk by myself—I stand and look at the stars,          which I think now I never realized before.

2   Now I absorb immortality and peace,

I admire death, and test propositions.

3   How plenteous! How spiritual! How resumé!

The same Old Man and Soul—the same old aspira-          tions, and the same content.

4   I was thinking the day most splendid, till I saw          what the not-day exhibited,

I was thinking this globe enough, till there sprang          out so noiseless around me myriads of other          globes.

5   Now, while the great thoughts of space and eternity          fill me, I will measure myself by them;

And now, touch'd with the lives of other globes, ar-          rived as far along as those of the earth,

View Page 288

Or waiting to arrive, or pass'd on farther than those          of the earth,

I henceforth no more ignore them, than I ignore my          own life,

Or the lives of the earth arrived as far as mine, or          waiting to arrive.

6   O I see now that life cannot exhibit all to me—as          the day cannot,

I see that I am to wait for what will be exhibited by          death.

4.

THE world below the brine;

Forests at the bottom of the sea—the branches and          leaves,

Sea-lettuce, vast lichens, strange flowers and seeds—          the thick tangle, the openings, and the pink          turf,

Different colors, pale gray and green, purple, white,          and gold—the play of light through the water,

Dumb swimmers there among the rocks—coral, gluten,          grass, rushes—and the aliment of the swimmers,

Sluggish existences grazing there, suspended, or          slowly crawling close to the bottom,

The sperm-whale at the surface, blowing air and          spray, or disporting with his flukes,

The leaden-eyed shark, the walrus, the turtle, the          hairy sea-leopard, and the sting-ray;

Passions there—wars, pursuits, tribes—sight in those          ocean-depths—breathing that thick-breathing          air, as so many do;

The change thence to the sight here, and to the subtle          air breathed by beings like us, who walk this          sphere;

The change onward from ours, to that of beings who          walk other spheres.

View Page 289

5.

I SIT and look out upon all the sorrows of the world,          and upon all oppression and shame;

I hear secret convulsive sobs from young men, at an-          guish with themselves, remorseful after deeds          done;

I see, in low life, the mother misused by her children,          dying, neglected, gaunt, desperate;

I see the wife misused by her husband—I see the          treacherous seducer of young women;

I mark the ranklings of jealousy and unrequited          love, attempted to be hid—I see these sights          on the earth;

I see the workings of battle, pestilence, tyranny—I          see martyrs and prisoners;

I observe a famine at sea—I observe the sailors cast-          ing lots who shall be kill'd, to preserve the          lives of the rest;

I observe the slights and degradations cast by arro-          gant persons upon laborers, the poor, and upon          negroes, and the like;

All these—All the meanness and agony without end,          I sitting, look out upon,

See, hear, and am silent.

contents   |   previous   |   next

Comments?

Published Works | In Whitman's Hand | Life & Letters | Commentary | Resources | Pictures & Sound

Support the Archive | About the Archive

Distributed under a Creative Commons License. Ed Folsom & Kenneth M. Price, editors.