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Leaves of Grass (1867)

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STARTING FROM PAUMANOK.

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¹ STARTING from fish-shape Paumanok, where I was
born,

Well-begotten, and rais'd by a perfect mother;

After roaming many lands—lover of populous pave-
ments;

Dweller in Mannahatta, city of ships, my city—or on
southern savannas;

Or a soldier camp'd, or carrying my knapsack and gun
—or a miner in California;

Or rude in my home in Dakotah's woods, my diet
meat, my drink from the spring;

Or withdrawn to muse and meditate in some deep
recess,

Far from the clank of crowds, intervals passing, rapt
and happy;

Aware of the fresh free giver, the flowing Missouri—
aware of mighty Niagara;

Aware of the buffalo herds, grazing the plains—the
hirsute and strong-breasted bull;

Of earths, rocks, Fifth-month flowers, experienced—
stars, rain, snow, my amaze;

Having studied the mocking-bird's tones, and the
mountain hawk's,

And heard at dusk the unrival'd one, the hermit
thrush from the swamp-cedars,

Solitary, singing in the West, I strike up for a New
World.

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² Victory, union, faith, identity, time,

Yourself, the present and future lands, the indissolu-
ble compacts, riches, mystery,

Eternal progress, the kosmos, and the modern reports.

³ This, then, is life;

Here is what has come to the surface after so many
throes and convulsions.

⁴ How curious! how real!

Under foot the divine soil—over head the sun.

⁵ See, revolving, the globe;

The ancestor-continents, away, group'd together;

The present and future continents, north and south,
with the isthmus between.

⁶ See, vast, trackless spaces;

As in a dream, they change, they swiftly fill;

Countless masses debouch upon them;

They are now cover'd with the foremost people, arts,
institutions, known.

⁷ See, projected, through time,

For me, an audience interminable.

⁸ With firm and regular step they wend—they never
stop,

Successions of men, Americanos, a hundred millions;

One generation playing its part, and passing on,

Another generation playing its part, and passing on in
its turn,

With faces turn'd sideways or backward towards me,
to listen,

With eyes retrospective towards me.

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⁹ Americanos! Conquerors! marches humanitarian;

Foremost! century marches! Libertad! masses!

For you a programme of chants.

¹⁰ Chants of the prairies;

Chants of the long-running Mississippi, and down to
the Mexican sea;

Chants of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, Wisconsin and
Minnesota;

Chants going forth from the centre, from Kansas, and
thence, equi-distant,

Shooting in pulses of fire, ceaseless, to vivify all.

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¹¹ In the Year 80 of The States,

My tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd from this
soil, this air,

Born here of parents born here, from parents the same,
and their parents the same,

I, now thirty-six years old, in perfect health, begin,

Hoping to cease not till death.

¹² Creeds and schools in abeyance,

(Retiring back a while, sufficed at what they are, but
never forgotten,)

I harbor, for good or bad—I permit to speak, at every
hazard,

Nature now without check, with original energy.

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¹³ Take my leaves, America! take them South, and
take them North!

Make welcome for them everywhere, for they are your
own offspring;

Surround them, East and West! for they would sur-
round you;

And you precedents! connect lovingly with them, for
they connect lovingly with you.

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¹⁴ I conn'd old times;

I sat studying at the feet of the great masters:

Now, if eligible, O that the great masters might re-
turn and study me!

¹⁵ In the name of These States, shall I scorn the
antique?

Why these are the children of the antique, to jus-
tify it.

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¹⁶ Dead poets, philosophs, priests,

Martyrs, artists, inventors, governments long since,

Language-shapers, on other shores,

Nations once powerful, now reduced, withdrawn, or
desolate,

I dare not proceed till I respectfully credit what you
have left, wafted hither :

I have perused it—own it is admirable, (moving
awhile among it;)

Think nothing can ever be greater—nothing can ever
deserve more than it deserves;

Regarding it all intently a long while, then dismiss-
ing it,

I stand in my place, with my own day, here.

¹⁷ Here lands female and male;

Here the heirship and heiress-ship of the world—here
the flame of materials;

Here Spirituality, the translatress, the openly-avow'd,

The ever-tending, the finale of visible forms;

The satisfier, after due long-waiting, now advancing,

Yes, here comes my mistress, the Soul.

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¹⁸ The SOUL!

Forever and forever—longer than soil is brown and
solid—longer than water ebbs and flows.

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¹⁹ I will make the poems of materials, for I think they
are to be the most spiritual poems;

And I will make the poems of my body and of mor-
tality,

For I think I shall then supply myself with the poems
of my Soul, and of immortality.

²⁰ I will make a song for These States, that no one
State may under any circumstances be sub-
jected to another State;

And I will make a song that there shall be comity by
day and by night between all The States, and
between any two of them;

And I will make a song for the ears of the President,
full of weapons with menacing points,

And behind the weapons countless dissatisfied faces :

And a song make I, of the One form'd out of all;

The fang'd and glittering One whose head is over all;

Resolute, warlike One, including and over all;

(However high the head of any else, that head is over all.)

²¹ I will acknowledge contemporary lands;

I will trail the whole geography of the globe, and sa-
lute courteously every city large and small;

And employments! I will put in my poems, that with
         you is heroism, upon land and sea—And I will
         report all heroism from an American point of
         view;

And sexual organs and acts! do you concentrate in
me—for I am determin'd to tell you with cour-
ageous clear voice, to prove you illustrious.

²² I will sing the song of companionship;

I will show what alone must finally compact These;

I believe These are to found their own ideal of
manly love, indicating it in me;

I will therefore let flame from me the burning fires
that were threatening to consume me;

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I will lift what has too long kept down those smoul-
dering fires;

I will give them complete abandonment;

I will write the evangel-poem of comrades and of

love;

(For who but I should understand love, with all its

sorrow and joy?

And who but I should be the poet of comrades?)

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²³ I am the credulous man of qualities, ages, races;

I advance from the people en-masse in their own
spirit;

Here is what sings unrestricted faith.

²⁴ Omnes! Omnes! let others ignore what they may;

I make the poem of evil also—I commemorate that
part also;

I am myself just as much evil as good, and my nation
is—And I say there is in fact no evil,

(Or if there is, I say it is just as important to you, to
the land, or to me, as anything else.)

²⁵ I too, following many, and follow'd by many, inau-
gurate a Religion—I too go to the wars;

(It may be I am destin'd to utter the loudest cries
thereof, the winner's pealing shouts;

Who knows? they may rise from me yet, and soar
above every thing.)

²⁶ Each is not for its own sake;

I say the whole earth, and all the stars in the sky, are
for Religion's sake.

²⁷ I say no man has ever yet been half devout enough

None has ever yet adored or worship'd half enough;

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None has begun to think how divine he himself is, and
how certain the future is.

²⁸ I say that the real and permanent grandeur of
These States must be their religion;

Otherwise there is no real and permanent grandeur;

(Nor character, nor life worthy the name, without Re-
ligion;

Nor land, nor man or woman, without Religion.)

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²⁹ What are you doing, young man?

Are you so earnest—so given up to literature, science,
art, amours?

These ostensible realities, politics, points?

Your ambition or business, whatever it may be?

³⁰ It is well—Against such I say not a word—I am
their poet also;

But behold! such swiftly subside—burnt up for Re-
ligion's sake;

For not all matter is fuel to heat, impalpable flame,
the essential life of the earth,

Any more than such are to Religion.

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³¹ What do you seek, so pensive and silent?

What do you need, Camerado?

Dear son! do you think it is love?

³² Listen, dear son—listen, America, daughter or son!

It is a painful thing to love a man or woman to ex-
cess—and yet it satisfies—it is great;

But there is something else very great—it makes the
whole coincide;

It, magnificent, beyond materials, with continuous
hands, sweeps and provides for all.

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³³ Know you! to drop in the earth the germs of a
greater Religion,

The following chants, each for its kind, I sing.

³⁴ My comrade!

For you, to share with me, two greatnesses—and a
third one, rising inclusive and more resplen-
dent,

The greatness of Love and Democracy—and the
greatness of Religion.

³⁵ Melange mine own! the unseen and the seen;

Mysterious ocean where the streams empty;

Prophetic spirit of materials shifting and flickering
around me;

Living beings, identities, now doubtless near us, in

the air, that we know not of;

Contact daily and hourly that will not release me;

These selecting—these, in hints, demanded of me.

³⁶ Not he, with a daily kiss, onward from childhood
kissing me,

Has winded and twisted around me that which holds
me to him,

Any more than I am held to the heavens, to the spir-
itual world,

And to the identities of the Gods, my lovers, faithful
and true,

After what they have done to me, suggesting themes.

³⁷ O such themes! Equalities!

O amazement of things! O divine average!

O warblings under the sun—usher'd, as now, or at
noon, or setting!

O strain, musical, flowing through ages—now reach-
ing hither,

I take to your reckless and composite chords—I add
to them, and cheerfully pass them forward.

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³⁸ As I have walk'd in Alabama my morning walk,

I have seen where the she-bird, the mocking-bird
on her nest in the briers, hatching her brood.

³⁹ I have seen the he-bird also;

I have paused to hear him, near at hand, inflating his
throat, and joyfully singing.

⁴⁰ And while I paused, it came to me that what he
really sang for was not there only,

Nor for his mate nor himself only, nor all sent back
by the echoes;

But subtle, clandestine, away beyond,

A charge transmitted, and gift occult, for those being
born.

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⁴¹ Democracy!

Near at hand to you a throat is now inflating itself

and joyfully singing.

⁴² Ma femme!

For the brood beyond us and of us,

For those who belong here, and those to come,

I, exultant, to be ready for them, will now shake out
carols stronger and haughtier than have ever
yet been heard upon earth.

⁴³ I will make the songs of passion, to give them their
way,

And your songs, outlaw'd offenders—for I scan you
with kindred eyes, and carry you with me the
same as any.

⁴⁴ I will make the true poem of riches,

To earn for the body and the mind, whatever adheres,
and goes forward, and is not dropt by death.

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⁴⁵ I will effuse egotism, and show it underlying all—
and I will be the bard of personality;

And I will show of male and female that either is but
the equal of the other;

And I will show that there is no imperfection in the
present—and can be none in the future;

And I will show that whatever happens to anybody, it
         may be turn'd to beautiful results—and I will
         show that nothing can happen more beautiful
         than death;

And I will thread a thread through my poems that
time and events are compact,

And that all the things of the universe are perfect
miracles, each as profound as any.

⁴⁶ I will not make poems with reference to parts;

But I will make leaves, poems, poemets, songs, says,
thoughts, with reference to ensemble:

And I will not sing with reference to a day, but with
reference to all days;

And I will not make a poem, nor the least part of a
poem, but has reference to the Soul;

(Because, having look'd at the objects of the universe,
I find there is no one, nor any particle of one,
but has reference to the Soul.)

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⁴⁷ Was somebody asking to see the Soul?

See! your own shape and countenance—persons, sub-
stances, beasts, the trees, the running rivers, the
rocks and sands. All hold spiritual joys, and afterwards loosen them:

How can the real body ever die, and be buried?

⁴⁹ Of your real body, and any man's or woman's real
body,

Item for item, it will elude the hands of the corpse-
cleaners, and pass to fitting spheres,

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Carrying what has accrued to it from the moment of
birth to the moment of death.

⁵⁰ Not the types set up by the printer return their im-
pression, the meaning, the main concern,

Any more than a man's substance and life, or a wo-
man's substance and life, return in the body
and the Soul,

Indifferently before death and after death.

⁵¹ Behold! the body includes and is the meaning, the
main concern—and includes and is the Soul;

Whoever you are! how superb and how divine is your
body, or any part of it.

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⁵² Whoever you are! to you endless announcements.

⁵³ Daughter of the lands, did you wait for your poet?

Did you wait for one with a flowing mouth and in-
dicative hand?

⁵⁴ Toward the male of The States, and toward the
female of The States,

Live words—words to the lands.

⁵⁵ O the lands! interlink'd, food-yielding lands!

Land of coal and iron! Land of gold! Lands of
cotton, sugar, rice!

Land of wheat, beef, pork! Land of wool and hemp!
Land of the apple and grape!

Land of the pastoral plains, the grass-fields of the
world! Land of those sweet-air'd interminable
plateaus!

Land of the herd, the garden, the healthy house of
adobie!

Lands where the northwest Columbia winds, and
where the southwest Colorado winds!

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Land of the eastern Chesapeake! Land of the Dela-
ware!

Land of Ontario, Erie, Huron, Michigan!

Land of the Old Thirteen! Massachusetts land! Land
of Vermont and Connecticut!

Land of the ocean shores! Land of sierras and peaks!

Land of boatmen and sailors! Fishermen's land!

Inextricable lands! the clutch'd together! the passion-
ate ones!

The side by side! the elder and younger brothers!
the bony-limb'd!

The great women's land! the feminine! the ex-
perienced sisters and the inexperienced sisters!

Far breath'd land! Arctic braced! Mexican breez'd!
the diverse! the compact!

The Pennsylvanian! the Virginian! the double Caro-
linian!

O all and each well-loved by me! my intrepid nations!
O I at any rate include you all with perfect love!

I cannot be discharged from you! not from one, any
sooner than another!

O Death! O for all that, I am yet of you, unseen, this
hour, with irrepressible love,

Walking New England, a friend, a traveler,

Splashing my bare feet in the edge of the summer
ripples, on Paumanok's sands,

Crossing the prairies—dwelling again in Chicago—
dwelling in every town,

Observing shows, births, improvements, structures,
arts,

Listening to the orators and the oratresses in public
halls,

Of and through The States, as during life—each man
and woman my neighbor,

The Louisianian, the Georgian, as near to me, and I
as near to him and her,

The Mississippian and Arkansian yet with me—and
I yet with any of them;

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Yet upon the plains west of the spinal river—yet in
my house of adobie,

Yet returning eastward—yet in the Sea-Side State, or
in Maryland,

Yet Kanadian, cheerily braving the winter—the snow
and ice welcome to me,

Yet a true son either of Maine, or of the Granite State,
or of the Narragansett Bay State, or of the
Empire State;

Yet sailing to other shores to annex the same—yet
welcoming every new brother;

Hereby applying these leaves to the new ones, from
the hour they unite with the old ones;

Coming among the new ones myself, to be their com-
panion and equal—coming personally to you
now;

Enjoining you to acts, characters, spectacles, with
me.

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⁵⁶ With me, with firm holding—yet haste, haste on.

⁵⁷ For your life, adhere tome;

Of all the men of the earth, I only can unloose you
and toughen you;

I may have to be persuaded many times before I
consent to give myself to you—but what of
that?

Must not Nature be persuaded many times?

⁵⁸ No dainty dolce affettuoso I;

Bearded, sunburnt, gray-neck'd, forbidding, I have
arrived,

To be wrestled with as I pass, for the solid prizes of
the universe;

For such I afford whoever can persevere to win them.

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⁵⁹ On my way a moment I pause;

Here for you! and here for America!

Still the Present I raise aloft—Still the Future of
The States I harbinge, glad and sublime;

And for the Past, I pronounce what the air holds of
&

⁶⁰ The red aborigines!

Leaving natural breaths, sounds of rain and winds,
calls as of birds and animals in the woods,
syllabled to us for names;

Okonee, Koosa, Ottawa, Monongahela, Sauk, Natchez,
Chattahoochee, Kaqueta, Oronoco,

Wabash, Miami, Saginaw, Chippewa, Oshkosh, Walla-
Walla;

Leaving such to The States, they melt, they depart,
charging the water and the land with names.

The Walt Whitman Archive

Leaves of Grass (1867)

STARTING FROM PAUMANOK.

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