Section 5

11855 756 ’60 read ‘stopped.”’
WALT WHITMAN AI
An unseen hand also pass’d over their bodies ; It descended tremblingly from their temples and ribs.
The young men float on their backs—their white bellies bulge to the sun—they do not ask who seizes fast to them ;
They do not know who puffs and declines with pendant and bending arch ;
They do not think whom they souse with spray.
12
The butcher-boy puts off his killing clothes, or sharpens his knife at the stall in the market ; I loiter, enjoying his repartee, and his shuffle and break-down. 210
Blacksmiths with grimed and hairy chests environ the anvil ; Each has his main-sledge—they are all out—(there is a great heat in the fire. )
From the cinder-strew’d threshold I follow their movements ;
The lithe sheer of their waists plays even with their massive arms ;
Over-hand the hammers swing'—over-hand so slow—over-hand so sure :
They do not hasten—each man hits in his place.
13
The negro holds firmly the reins of his four horses—the block swags underneath on its tied-over chain ;
The negro that drives the dray of the stone-yard—steady and tall he stands, pois’d on one leg on the string-piece ;
His blue shirt exposes his ample neck and breast, and loosens over his hip-band ;
His glance is calm and commanding—he tosses the slouch of his hat away from his forehead ; 220
The sun falls on his crispy hair and moustache—falls on the black of his polish’d and perfect limbs.
I behold the picturesque giant, and love him—and I do not stop there ; I go with the team also.
1 1855 56 ’6o read ‘ hammers roll,”’
42 LEAVES OF GRASS
In me the caresser of life wherever moving—backward as well as forward slueing ; To niches aside and junior bending.
Oxen that rattle the yoke and chain,’ or halt in the leafy shade! what is that you express in your eyes? It seems to me more than all the print I have read in my life.
My tread scares the wood-drake and wood-duck, on my distant and day-long ramble ; They rise together—they slowly circle around.
I believe in those wing’d purposes, 230
And acknowledge’ red, yellow, white, playing within me,
And consider® green and violet, and the tufted crown, inten- tional ;
And do not call the tortoise unworthy because she is not some- thing else ;
And the jay in the woods never studied the gamut, yet trills pretty well to me ;*
And the look of the bay mare shames silliness out of me.
14 The wild gander leads his flock through the cool night ; Ya-honk / he says, and sounds it down to me like an invitation ; (The pert may suppose it meaningless, but I listen close ;°
I find its purpose and place up there toward the wintry® sky. )
The sharp-hoof’d moose of the north, the cat on the house-sill, the chickadee, the prairie-dog, 240
The litter of the grunting sow as they tug at her teats,
The brood of the turkey-hen, and she with her half-spread wings ;
I see in them and myself the same old law.
The press of my foot to the earth springs a hundred affections ; They scorn the best I can do to relate them.
1 «‘and chain”’ added in 1867.
2 1855 reads ‘the red, yellow and white,”’ etc.
3 1855 reads ‘‘the green,”’ etc.
* 1855 756 ’60 read, ‘‘ and the mocking-bird in the swamp never studied,’’ etc.
5 1855 reads * closer.’’
6 1855 756 reads ‘‘ November sky.”’
WALT WHITMAN 43
I am enamour’d of growing out-doors,
Of men that live among cattle, or taste of the ocean or woods,
Of the builders and steerers of ships, and! the wielders of axes and mauls, and the drivers of horses ;
I can eat and sleep with them week in and week out.
What is commonest,’ cheapest, nearest, easiest, is Me; 250
Me going in for my chances, spending for vast returns ;
Adorning myself to bestow myself on the first that will take me ;
Not asking the sky to come down to my good will ;
Scattering it freely forever.
5
The pure contralto sings in the organ loft ;
The carpenter dresses his plank—the tongue of his foreplane whistles its wild ascending lisp ;
The married and unmarried children ride home to their Thanks- giving dinner ;
The pilot seizes the king-pin—he heaves down with a strong arm ;
The mate stands braced in the whale-boat—lance and harpoon are ready ;
The duck-shooter walks by silent and cautious stretches ; 260
The deacons are ordain’d with cross’d hands at the altar ;
The spinning-girl retreats and advances to the hum of the big wheel ;
The farmer stops by the bars,*® as he walks on a First-day loafe, and looks at the oats and rye ;
The lunatic is carried at last to the asylum, a confirm’d case,
(He will never sleep any more as he did in the cot in his mother’s bed-room ; ) ,
The jour printer with gray head and gaunt jaws works at his case,
He turns his quid of tobacco, while his eyes blurr* with the manu- script ;
The malform’d limbs are tied to the surgeon’s’ table,
What is removed drops horribly in a pail ;
The quadroon girl is sold at the auction-stand—the drunkard nods by the bar-room stove ; 270
1 1855 56 read ‘‘ of the wielders,”’ etc., “of the drivers,’’ etc.
2 1855 reads ‘‘ and cheapest and nearest and easiest.”
3 1855 56 read ‘‘ The farmer stops by the bars of a Sunday, and looks,”’ etc. 4 185556 read ‘‘his eyes get blurred.”’
5 1855 756 ’60 read ‘‘ anatomist’s table,”
44 LEAVES OF GRASS
The machinist rolls up his sleeves—the policeman travels his beat—the gate-keeper marks who pass;
The young fellow drives the express-wagon—(I love him, though I do not know him ;)
The half-breed straps on his light boots to compete in the race ;
The western turkey-shooting draws old and young—some lean on their rifles, some sit on logs,
Out from the crowd steps the marksman, takes his position, levels his piece ;
The groups of newly-come immigrants cover the wharf or levee ;
As the woolly-pates hoe in the sugar-field, the overseer views them from his saddle ;
The bugle calls in the ball-room, the gentlemen run for their partners, the dancers bow to each other ;
The youth lies awake in the cedar-roof’d garret, and harks to the musical rain ;
The Wolverine sets traps on the creek that helps fill the Huron ;} 280
The squaw, wrapt in her yellow-hemm’d cloth, is offering moc- casins and bead-bags for sale ;
The connoisseur peers along the exhibition-gallery with half- shut eyes bent sideways ;
As the deck-hands make fast the steamboat, the plank is thrown for the shore-going passengers ;
The young sister holds out the skein, while’ the elder sister winds it off in a ball, and stops now and then for the knots ;
The one-year wife is recovering and happy, having a week ago borne her first child ;*
The clean-hair’d Yankee girl works with her sewing-machine, or in the factory or mill ;
The nine months’ gone is in the parturition chamber, her faint-
» ness and pains are advancing ;
The paving-man leans on his two-handed rammer—the reporter’s lead flies swiftly over the note-book—the sign-painter is lettering with red and gold;
The canal boy trots on the tow-path—the book-keeper counts at his desk—the shoemaker waxes his thread ;
11855756 ’60, After line 280 reads ‘‘ The reformer ascends the platform,
he spouts with his mouth and nose, The company returns from its excursion, the darkey brings up the rear and bears the well-riddled target.”’ 2 «¢ while’? added in 1860. * 1855 756 **A week ago she bore,”’ etc.
WALT WHITMAN 45
The conductor beats time for the band, and all the performers
follow him ; 290 The child is baptized—the convert is making his first profes- sions ;
The regatta is spread on the bay—the race is begun’—how the white sails sparkle !
The drover, watching his drove, sings out to them that would stray ;
The pedler sweats with his pack on his back, (the purchaser higgling about the odd cent ;)
The camera and plate are prepared, the lady must sit for her daguerreotype ;
The bride unrumples her white dress, the minute-hand of the clock moves slowly ;
The opium-eater reclines with rigid head and just-open’d lips ;
The prostitute draggles her shawl, her bonnet bobs on her tipsy and pimpled neck ;
The crowd laugh at her blackguard oaths, the men jeer and wink to each other ;
(Miserable ! I do not laugh at your oaths, nor jeer you;) 300
The President, holding’ a cabinet council, is surrounded by the Great Secretaries ;
On the piazza walk three matrons stately and friendly with twined arms ;*
The crew of the fish-smack pack repeated layers of halibut in the hold ;
The Missourian crosses the plains, toting his wares and his cattle ;
As the fare-collector goes through the train, he gives notice by the jingling of loose change ;
The floor-men are laying the floor—the tinners are tinning the roof—the masons are calling for mortar ;
In single file, each shouldering his hod, pass onward the laborers ;
Seasons pursuing each other, the indescribable crowd is gather’d —it is the Fourth of Seventh-month*—(What salutes of cannon and small arms !)
Seasons pursuing each other, the plougher ploughs, the mower mows, and the winter-grain falls in the ground ;
1 ¢ the race is begun”? added in 1867.
2 1855 756 read “holds,” ‘‘ he is surrounded,” etc. _
31855 756 ’60 read “On the piazza walk five friendly matrons with twined arms.’’
£1855 756 read ‘¢July.”’
46 LEAVES OF GRASS
Off on the lakes the pike-fisher watches and waits by the hole in the frozen surface ; 310
The stumps stand thick round the clearing, the squatter strikes deep with his axe ;
Flatboatmen make fast, towards dusk, near the cottonwood or pekan-trees ;
Coon-seekers go! through the regions of the Red river, or through those drain’d by the Tennessee, or through those of the Arkansaw ;
Torches shine in the dark that hangs on the Chattahoochee or Altamahaw ;
Patriarchs sit at supper with sons and grandsons and great- grandsons around them ;
In walls of adobie, in canvas tents, rest hunters and trappers after their day’s sport ;
The city sleeps, and the country sleeps ;
The living sleep for their time, the dead sleep for their time ;
The old husband sleeps by his wife, and the young husband sleeps by his wife ;
And these one and all tend inward to me, and I tend outward to them ; 320
And such as it is to be of these, more or less, I am.
16
I am of old and young, of the foolish as much as the wise ;
Regardless of others, ever regardful of others,
Maternal as well as paternal, a child as well as a man,
Stuff'd with the stuff that is coarse, and stuff’d with the stuff that is fine ; >»
One of the Great Nation, the nation of many nations, the smallest the same, and the largest the same ;
A southerner soon as a northerner—a planter nonchalant and hospitable, down by the Oconee I live ;?
A Yankee, bound by my own way, ready for trade, my joints the limberest joints on earth, and the sternest joints on earth ;
A Kentuckian, walking the vale of the Elkhorn, in my deer-skin leggings—a Louisianian or Georgian ;°
11855 reads ‘‘ go now through.’’ 2 « down by the Oconee I live’? added in 1867. 3
WALT WHITMAN 47
A boatman over lakes or bays, or along coasts—a Hoosier, Badger, Buckeye ;! 330
At home on Kanadian snow-shoes, or up in the bush, or with fishermen off Newfoundland ;
At home in the fleet of ice-boats, sailing with the rest and tacking ;
At home on the hills of Vermont, or in the woods of Maine, or the Texan ranch ;
Comrade of Californians—comrade of free north-westerners, (loving their big proportions ;)
Comrade of raftsmen and coalmen—comrade of all who shake hands and welcome to drink and meat ;
A learner with the simplest, a teacher of the thoughtfullest ;
A novice beginning, yet” experient of myriads of seasons ;
Of every hue’ and caste am I, of every rank and religion ;*
A farmer, mechanic, artist, gentleman, sailor, quaker ;°
A prisoner, fancy-man, rowdy, lawyer, physician,® priest. 340
I resist anything better than my own diversity ; I breathe’ the air, but leave plenty after me, And am not stuck up, and am in my place.
(The moth and the fish-eggs are in their place ; The suns I see, and the suns I cannot see, are in their place ; The palpable is in its place, and the impalpable is in its place. )
fi)
7} These are the thoughts of all nerf i in all ages and lands—they are : not original with me ;
If they are not yours as much as mine, they are nothing, or next to nothing ;*
17855 ’56’60. After line 330 read ‘‘A Louisianian or Georgian, a Poke- easy from sand-hills and pines.’”’ See line 229.
2
31855 reads “‘Of every hue and trade and rank, of every caste and religion,’’ 1856 reads ‘‘Of every hue, trade, rank, of every caste and re- ligion,’”’ 1860 reads *‘ Of every hue, trade, rank, caste and religion.’’
41855 ’56’60. After line 338 read ‘‘ Not merely of the New World, but of Africa, Europe, Asia—a wandering savage.’’
5 1855 reads ‘* A farmer, mechanic, or artist—a gentleman, sailor, lover or quaker.’? 1856 ’60 read ‘‘A farmer, mechanic, artist, gentleman, sailor, lover, quaker.’’
6 1855 reads “¢ or priest.’’
7 1855 56 ’60 read ‘* And breathe.’’
8 1855 ’56’60. After line 348 read ‘If they do not enclose everything, they are next to nothing.”’
48 LEAVES OF GRASS
If they are not the riddle, and the untying of the riddle, they are nothing ;
If they are not just as close as they are distant, they are nothing. 350
This is the grass that grows wherever the land is, and the water is ; This is the common air that bathes the globe.’
‘18 \ With music strong I come—with my cornets and my drums, I play not marches for accepted victors only—I play great marches for conquer’d and slain persons.
Have you heard that it was good to gain the day ? I also say it is good to fall—battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won.
I beat and pound for the dead ;? I blow* through my embouchures my loudest and gayest for them.
Vivas to those who have fail’d!
And to those whose war-vessels sank in the sea! 360
And to those themselves who sank in the sea!
And to all generals that lost engagements! and all overcome heroes !
And the numberless unknown heroes, equal to the greatest heroes known.
1 After line 352, 1855 ’56’60 read ‘ This is the breath of laws and songs and behaviour,
This is the tasteless water of souls, this is the true sustenance, It is for the illiterate, it is for the judges of the supreme court, it is for-the federal capitol and the state capitols, It is for the admirable communes of literary men* and composers and singers and lecturers and engineers and savans, It is for the endless races of working peoplef and farmers and seamen. This is the trill of a thousand clear cornets and scream of the octave flute and strike of triangles. I play not a march} for victors only, I play great marches for conquered and slain persons.” 1860 reads “‘ This is the breath for America, because it is my breath. This is for laws, songs, behavior.”’ ? 1855 reads ‘‘T sound triumphal drums for the dead.’? 185660 read ‘¢ Lbeat,’? etc. 3 1855 reads ‘‘I fling,” etc. * 1856’60 read ‘‘literats.”’ tT 185660 read ‘‘ work-people.’’ { 1860 reads ‘‘ not here marches.”’
WALT WHITMAN A9 (..) a This is the meal equally! set—this is the meat? for natural hunger ; It is for the wicked just the same as the righteous—I make ap- pointments with all ; I will not have a single person slighted or left away ; The kept-woman, sponger, thief, are hereby invited ; The heavy-lipp’ d slave is invited—the venerealee is invited : There shall be no difference between them and the rest.
This is the press of a bashful hand—this is the float and odor of
hair ; 370 This is the touch of my lips to yours—this is the murmur of yearning ;
This is the far-off depth and height reflecting my own face ; This is the thoughtful merge of myself, and the outlet again. f =a /Do you guess I have some intricate purpose ? ‘ | Well, I have—for the Fourth-month showers have,*and the mica | me on the side of a rock has.
Do you take it I would astonish ? Does the daylight astonish? lDoes* the early redstart, twittering through the woods P \ DoT astonish more than they ?
a
“This hour I tell things in confidence ; Nee a sieht not tell everybody, but I will tell you. 380
*) >on
i20.
Who goes there ? hankering, gross, mystical, nude ; How is it I extract strength from the beef I eat?
What isa man, anyhow? WhatamI? What are youP
All I mark as my own, you shall offset it with your own ; Else it were time lost listening to me.