The Walt Whitman MEGAPACK ®. Walt Whitman

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The Walt Whitman MEGAPACK ® - Walt Whitman

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all presences outlaw’d or suffering,

      See myself in prison shaped like another man,

      And feel the dull unintermitted pain.

      For me the keepers of convicts shoulder their carbines and keep watch,

      It is I let out in the morning and barr’d at night.

      Not a mutineer walks handcuff’d to jail but I am handcuff’d to him and walk by his side,

      (I am less the jolly one there, and more the silent one with sweat on my twitching lips.)

      Not a youngster is taken for larceny but I go up too, and am tried and sentenced.

      Not a cholera patient lies at the last gasp but I also lie at the last gasp,

      My face is ash-color’d, my sinews gnarl, away from me people retreat.

      Askers embody themselves in me and I am embodied in them,

      I project my hat, sit shame-faced, and beg.

      38

      Enough! enough! enough!

      Somehow I have been stunn’d. Stand back!

      Give me a little time beyond my cuff’d head, slumbers, dreams, gaping,

      I discover myself on the verge of a usual mistake.

      That I could forget the mockers and insults!

      That I could forget the trickling tears and the blows of the bludgeons and hammers!

      That I could look with a separate look on my own crucifixion and bloody crowning.

      I remember now,

      I resume the overstaid fraction,

      The grave of rock multiplies what has been confided to it, or to any graves,

      Corpses rise, gashes heal, fastenings roll from me.

      I troop forth replenish’d with supreme power, one of an average unending procession,

      Inland and sea-coast we go, and pass all boundary lines,

      Our swift ordinances on their way over the whole earth,

      The blossoms we wear in our hats the growth of thousands of years.

      Eleves, I salute you! come forward!

      Continue your annotations, continue your questionings.

      39

      The friendly and flowing savage, who is he?

      Is he waiting for civilization, or past it and mastering it?

      Is he some Southwesterner rais’d out-doors? is he Kanadian?

      Is he from the Mississippi country? Iowa, Oregon, California?

      The mountains? prairie-life, bush-life? or sailor from the sea?

      Wherever he goes men and women accept and desire him,

      They desire he should like them, touch them, speak to them, stay with them.

      Behavior lawless as snow-flakes, words simple as grass, uncomb’d head, laughter, and naivete,

      Slow-stepping feet, common features, common modes and emanations,

      They descend in new forms from the tips of his fingers,

      They are wafted with the odor of his body or breath, they fly out of the glance of his eyes.

      40

      Flaunt of the sunshine I need not your bask—lie over!

      You light surfaces only, I force surfaces and depths also.

      Earth! you seem to look for something at my hands,

      Say, old top-knot, what do you want?

      Man or woman, I might tell how I like you, but cannot,

      And might tell what it is in me and what it is in you, but cannot,

      And might tell that pining I have, that pulse of my nights and days.

      Behold, I do not give lectures or a little charity,

      When I give I give myself.

      You there, impotent, loose in the knees,

      Open your scarf’d chops till I blow grit within you,

      Spread your palms and lift the flaps of your pockets,

      I am not to be denied, I compel, I have stores plenty and to spare,

      And any thing I have I bestow.

      I do not ask who you are, that is not important to me,

      You can do nothing and be nothing but what I will infold you.

      To cotton-field drudge or cleaner of privies I lean,

      On his right cheek I put the family kiss,

      And in my soul I swear I never will deny him.

      On women fit for conception I start bigger and nimbler babes.

      (This day I am jetting the stuff of far more arrogant republics.)

      To any one dying, thither I speed and twist the knob of the door.

      Turn the bed-clothes toward the foot of the bed,

      Let the physician and the priest go home.

      I seize the descending man and raise him with resistless will,

      O despairer, here is my neck,

      By God, you shall not go down! hang your whole weight upon me.

      I dilate you with tremendous breath, I buoy you up,

      Every room of the house do I fill with an arm’d force,

      Lovers of me, bafflers of graves.

      Sleep—I and they keep guard all night,

      Not doubt, not decease shall dare to lay finger upon you,

      I have embraced you, and henceforth possess you to myself,

      And when you rise in the morning you will find what I tell you is so.

      41

      I am he bringing help for the sick as they pant on their backs,

      And for strong upright men I bring

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