POETS Main Page INDEX of Poets INDEX of Titles & First Lines Whitman menu

Whitman

Walt Whitman
1819-1892

"Song of Myself – No.21"

 

I am the poet of the Body and I am the poet of the Soul,
The pleasures of heaven are with me and the pains of hell are
          with me,
The first I graft and increase upon myself, the latter I
          translate into a new tongue.
I am the poet of the woman the same as the man,
And I say it is as great to be a woman as to be a man,
And I say there is nothing greater than the mother of men.
I chant the chant of dilation or pride,
We have had ducking and deprecating about enough,
I show that size is only development.
Have you outstripped the rest? are you the President?
It is a trifle, they will more than arrive there every one, and
          still pass on.
I am he that walks with the tender and growing night,
I call to the earth and sea half-held by the night.
Press close bare-bosomed night – press close magnetic
          nourishing night!
Night of south winds – night of the large few stars!
Still nodding night – mad naked summer night.
Smile O voluptuous cool-breathed earth!
Earth of the slumbering and liquid trees!
Earth of departed sunset – earth of the mountains
          misty-topped!
Earth of the vitreous pour of the full moon just tinged with
          blue!
Earth of shine and dark mottling the tide of the river!
Earth of the limpid gray of clouds brighter and clearer for
          my sake!
Far-swooping elbowed earth – rich apple-blossomed earth!
Smile, for your lover comes.
Prodigal, you have given me love – therefore I to you give
          love!
O unspeakable passionate love.

Buy Walt Whitman's poetry

POETS Main Page INDEX of Poets INDEX of Titles & First Lines Whitman menu