WALT WHITMAN Ultimate Collection: 500+ Works in Poetry & Prose. Walt Whitman

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WALT WHITMAN Ultimate Collection: 500+ Works in Poetry & Prose - Walt Whitman

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

       lovingly with you.

      I conn’d old times,

       I sat studying at the feet of the great masters,

       Now if eligible O that the great masters might return and study me.

      In the name of these States shall I scorn the antique?

       Why these are the children of the antique to justify it.

      5

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       Nations once powerful, now reduced, withdrawn, or desolate,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

       I stand in my place with my own day here.

      Here lands female and male,

       Here the heir-ship 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.

      6

       The soul,

       Forever and forever — longer than soil is brown and solid — longer

       than water ebbs and flows.

       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 mortality,

       For I think I shall then supply myself with the poems of my soul and

       of immortality.

      I will make a song for these States that no one State may under any

       circumstances be subjected 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.)

      I will acknowledge contemporary lands,

       I will trail the whole geography of the globe and salute 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.

      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,

       I will lift what has too long kept down those smouldering 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?

      7

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

       I advance from the people in their own spirit,

       Here is what sings unrestricted faith.

      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 any thing else.)

      I too, following many and follow’d by many, inaugurate a religion, I

       descend into the arena,

       (It may be I am destin’d to utter the loudest cries there, the

       winner’s pealing shouts,

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

      Each is not for its own sake,

       I say the whole earth and all the stars in the sky are for religion’s sake.

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

       None has ever yet adored or worship’d half enough,

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

       the future is.

      I say that the real and permanent grandeur of these States must be

       their religion,

       Otherwise there is just no real and permanent grandeur;

       (Nor character nor

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