by Walt Whitman
Let the worst men beget children out of the worst women!
Let the priest still play at immortality!
Let death be inaugurated!
Let nothing remain but the ashes of teachers, artists, moralists,
lawyers, and learn’d and polite persons!
Let him who is without my poems be assassinated!
Let the cow, the horse, the camel, the garden-bee—let the
mud-fish, the lobster, the mussel, eel, the sting-ray, and the
grunting pig-fish—let these, and the like of these, be put on a
perfect equality with man and woman!
Let churches accommodate serpents, vermin, and the corpses of
those who have died of the most filthy of diseases!
Let marriage slip down among fools, and be for none but fools!
Let men among themselves talk and think forever obscenely of
women! and let women among themselves talk and think
obscenely of men!
Let us all, without missing one, be exposed in public, naked,
monthly, at the peril of our lives! let our bodies be freely
handled and examined by whoever chooses!
Let nothing but copies at second hand be permitted to exist upon
the earth!
Let the earth desert God, nor let there ever henceforth be
mention’d the name of God!
Let there be no God!
Let there be money, business, imports, exports, custom,
authority, precedents, pallor, dyspepsia, smut, ignorance,
unbelief!
Let judges and criminals be transposed! let the prison-keepers be
put in prison! let those that were prisoners take the keys! Say!
why might they not just as well be transposed?)
Let the slaves be masters! let the masters become slaves!
Let the reformers descend from the stands where they are forever
bawling! let an idiot or insane person appear on each of the
stands!
Let the Asiatic, the African, the European, the American, and the
Australian, go armed against the murderous stealthiness of
each other! let them sleep armed! let none believe in good
will!
Let there be no unfashionable wisdom! let such be scorn’d and
derided off from the earth!
Let a floating cloud in the sky—let a wave of the sea—let growing
mint, spinach, onions, tomatoes—let these be exhibited as
shows, at a great price for admission!
Let all the men of These States stand aside for a few smouchers!
let the few seize on what they choose! let the rest gawk,
giggle, starve, obey!
Let shadows be furnish’d with genitals! let substances be deprived
of their genitals!
Let there be wealthy and immense cities—but still through any of
them, not a single poet, savior, knower, lover!
Let the infidels of These States laugh all faith away!
If one man be found who has faith, let the rest set upon him!
Let them affright faith! let them destroy the power of breeding
faith!
Let the she-harlots and the he-harlots be prudent! let them dance
on, while seeming lasts! (O seeming! seeming! seeming!)
Let the preachers recite creeds! let them still teach only what they
have been taught!
Let insanity still have charge of sanity!
Let books take the place of trees, animals, rivers, clouds!
Let the daub’d portraits of heroes supersede heroes!
Let the manhood of man never take steps after itself!
Let it take steps after eunuchs, and after consumptive and genteel
persons!
Let the white person again tread the black person under his heel!
(Say! which is trodden under heel, after all?)
Let the reflections of the things of the world be studied in mirrors!
let the things themselves still continue unstudied!
Let a man seek pleasure everywhere except in himself!
With Nigel and Catherine Jeanette Chomeley-Jones—68 years old, 1887,
photo taken by George C. Cox in New York, New York. Courtesy of the
Library of Congress, Charles E. Feinberg Collection. Saunders #97.3.
Let a woman seek happiness everywhere except in herself!
(What real happiness have you had one single hour through your
whole life?)
Let the limited years of life do nothing for the limitless years of
death! (What do you suppose death will do, then?)
ENFANS D‘ADAM. 11
In the new garden, in all the parts,
In cities now, modern, I wander,
Though the second or third result, or still further, primitive yet,
Days, places, indifferent—though various, the same,
Time, Paradise, the Mannahatta, the prairies, finding me
unchanged,
Death indifferent—Is it that I lived long since? Was I buried very
long ago?
For all that, I may now be watching you here, this moment;
For the future, with determined will, I seek—the woman of the
future,
You, born years, centuries after me, I seek.
CALAMUS. 16
Who is now reading this?
May-be one is now reading this who knows some wrong-doing of
my past life,
Or may-be a stranger is reading this who has secretly loved me,
Or may-be one who meets all my grand assumptions and egotisms
with derision,
Or may-be one who is puzzled at me.
As if I were not puzzled at myself!
Or as if I never deride myself! (O conscience-struck! O self-
convicted!)
Or as if I do not secretly love strangers! (O tenderly, a long time,
and never avow it;)
Or as if I did not see, perfectly well, interior in myself, the stuff of
wrong-doing,
Or as if it could cease transpiring from me until it must cease.
CALAMUS. 8
Long I thought that knowledge alone would suffice me—O if I
could but obtain knowledge!
Then my lands engrossed me—Lands of the prairies, Ohio’s land,
the southern savannas, engrossed me—For them I would
live—I would be their orator;
Then I met the examples of old and new heroes—I heard of
warriors, sailors, and all dauntless persons—And it seemed to
me that I too had it in me to be as dauntless as any—and
would be so;
And then, to enclose all, it came to me to strike up the songs of
the New World—And then I believed my life must be spent
in singing;
But now take notice, land of the prairies, land of the south
savannas, Ohio’s land,
Take notice, you Kanuck woods—and you Lake Huron—and all
that with you roll toward Niagara—and you Niagara also,
And you, Californian mountains—That you each and all find
somebody else to be your singer of songs,
For I can be your singer of songs no longer—One who loves me
is jealous of me, and withdraws me from all but love,
With the rest I dispense—I sever from what I thought would
suffice me, for it does not—it is now empty and tasteless to
me,
I heed knowledge, and the grandeur of The States, and the
example of heroes, no more,
I am indifferent to my own songs—I will go with him I love,
It is to be enough for us that we are together—We never separate
again.
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br /> CALAMUS. 9
Hours continuing long, sore and heavy-hearted,
Hours of the dusk, when I withdraw to a lonesome and
unfrequented spot, seating myself, leaning my face in my
hands;
Hours sleepless, deep in the night, when I go forth, speeding
swiftly the country roads, or through the city streets, or pacing
miles and miles, stifling plaintive cries;
Hours discouraged, distracted—for the one I cannot content
myself without, soon I saw him content himself without me;
Hours when I am forgotten, (O weeks and months are passing,
but I believe I am never to forget!)
Sullen and suffering hours! (I am ashamed—but it is useless—I
am what I am;)
Hours of my torment—I wonder if other men ever have the like,
out of the like feelings?
Is there even one other like me—distracted—his friend, his lover,
lost to him?
Is he too as I am now? Does he still rise in the morning, dejected,
thinking who is lost to him? and at night, awaking, think who
is lost?
Does he too harbor his friendship silent and endless? harbor his
anguish and passion?
Does some stray reminder, or the casual mention of a name,
bring the fit back upon him, taciturn and deprest?
Does he see himself reflected in me? In these hours, does he see
the face of his hours reflected?
LEAVES OF GRASS. 20
So far, and so far, and on toward the end,
Singing what is sung in this book, from the irresistible impulses
of me;
But whether I continue beyond this book, to maturity,
Whether I shall dart forth the true rays, the ones that wait unfired,
(Did you think the sun was shining its brightest?
No—it has not yet fully risen;)
Whether I shall complete what is here started,
Whether I shall attain my own height, to justify these, yet
unfinished,
Whether I shall make THE POEM OF THE NEW WORLD,
transcending all others—depends, rich persons, upon you,
Depends, whoever you are now filling the current Presidentiad,
upon you,
Upon you, Governor, Mayor, Congressman,
And you, contemporary America.
THOUGHTS. 1
Of the visages of things—And of piercing through to the accepted
hells beneath;
Of ugliness—To me there is just as much in it as there is in
beauty—And now the ugliness of human beings is acceptable
to me;
Of detected persons—To me, detected persons are not, in any
respect, worse than undetected persons—and are not in any
respect worse than I am myself;
Of criminals—To me, any judge, or any juror, is equally
criminal—and any reputable person is also—and the
President is also.
THOUGHT
Of what I write from myself—As if that were not the resume;
Of Histories—As if such, however complete, were not less
complete than the preceding poems;
As if those shreds, the records of nations, could possibly be as
lasting as the preceding poems;
As if here were not the amount of all nations, and of all the lives
of heroes.
SAYS
-1-
I say whatever tastes sweet to the most perfect person, that is finally right.
-2-
I say nourish a great intellect, a great brain;
If I have said anything to the contrary, I hereby retract it.
-3-
I say man shall not hold property in man;
I say the least developed person on earth is just as important and
sacred to himself or herself, as the most developed person is
to himself or herself.
-4-
I say where liberty draws not the blood out of slavery, there slavery
draws the blood out of liberty,
I say the word of the good old cause in These States, and resound
it hence over the world.
-5-
I say the human shape or face is so great, it must never be made
ridiculous;
I say for ornaments nothing outre can be allowed,
And that anything is most beautiful without ornament,
And that exaggerations will be sternly revenged in your own
physiology, and in other persons’ physiology also;
And I say that clean-shaped children can be jetted and conceived
only where natural forms prevail in public, and the human
face and form are never caricatured;
And I say that genius need never more be turned to romances,
(For facts properly told, how mean appear all romances.)
-6-
I say the word of lands fearing nothing—I will have no other land;
I say discuss all and expose all—I am for every topic openly;
I say there can be no salvation for These States without
innovators—without free tongues, and ears willing to hear the
tongues;
And I announce as a glory of These States, that they respectfully
listen to propositions, reforms, fresh views and doctrines, from
successions of men and women,
Each age with its own growth.
-7-
I have said many times that materials and the Soul are great, and
that all depends on physique;
Now I reverse what I said, and affirm that all depends on the
aesthetic or intellectual,
And that criticism is great—and that refinement is greatest of all;
And I affirm now that the mind governs—and that all depends on
the mind.
-8-
With one man or woman—(no matter which one—I even pick
out the lowest,)
With him or her I now illustrate the whole law;
I say that every right, in politics or what-not, shall be eligible to
that one man or woman, on the same terms as any.
APOSTROPH
O mater! O fils!
O brood continental!
O flowers of the prairies!
O space boundless! O hum of mighty products!
O you teeming cities! O so invincible, turbulent, proud!
O race of the future! O women!
O fathers! O you men of passion and the storm!
O native power only! O beauty!
O yourself! O God! O divine average!
O you bearded roughs! O bards! O all those slumberers!
O arouse! the dawn-bird’s throat sounds shrill! Do you not hear
the cock crowing?
O, as I walk’d the beach, I heard the mournful notes foreboding a
tempest—the low, oft-repeated shriek of the diver, the long
lived loon;
O I heard, and yet hear, angry thunder;—0 you sailors! O ships!
make quick preparation!
O from his masterful sweep, the warning cry of the eagle!
(Give way there, all! It is useless! Give up your spoils;)
O sarcasms! Propositions! (O if the whole world should prove
indeed a sham, a sell!)
O I believe there is nothing real but America and freedom!
O to sternly reject all except Democracy!
O imperator! O who dare confront you and me?
O to promulgate our own! O to build for that which builds for
mankind!
O feuillage! O North! O the slope drained by the
Mexican sea!
O all, all inseparable—ages, a
ges, ages!
O a curse on him that would dissever this Union for any reason
whatever!
O climates, labors! O good and evil! O death!
O you strong with iron and wood! O Personality!
O the village or place which has the greatest man or woman!
even if it be only a few ragged huts;
O the city where women walk in public processions in the streets,
the same as the men;
O a wan and terrible emblem, by me adopted!
O shapes arising! shapes of the future centuries!
O muscle and pluck forever for me!
O workmen and workwomen forever for me!
O farmers and sailors! O drivers of horses forever for me!
O I will make the new bardic list of trades and tools!
O you coarse and wilful! I love you!
O South! O longings for my dear home! O soft and sunny airs!
O pensive! O I must return where the palm grows and the
mocking-bird sings, or else I die!
O equality! O organic compacts! I am come to be your born
poet!
O whirl, contest, sounding and resounding! I am your poet,
because I am part of you;
O days by-gone! Enthusiasts! Antecedents!
O vast preparations for These States! O years!
O what is now being sent forward thousands of years to
come!
O mediums! O to teach! to convey the invisible faith!
To promulge real things! to journey through all The States!
O creation! O to-day! O laws! O unmitigated adoration!
O for mightier broods of orators, artists, and singers!
O for native songs! carpenter‘s, boatman’, ploughman’s songs!
shoemaker’s songs!
O haughtiest growth of time! O free and extatic!
O what I, here, preparing, warble for!
O you hastening light! O the sun of the world will ascend,
dazzling, and take his height—and you too will ascend;
O so amazing and so broad! up there resplendent, darting and
burning;
O prophetic! O vision staggered with weight of light! with
pouring glories!
O copious! O hitherto unequalled!
O Libertad! O compact! O union impossible to dissever!
O my Soul! O lips becoming tremulous, powerless!
O centuries, centuries yet ahead!