Walt Whitman
Copyright 2004. Pat @ Close. All Rights Reserved.
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Leaves of Grass

A Walt Whitman Collection

Book II. Starting From Paumanok

Chapter I

Starting from fish-shape Paumanok where I was born,
Well-begotten, and rais`d by a perfect mother,
After roaming many lands, lover of populous pavements,
Dweller in Mannahatta my city, or on southern savannas,
Or a soldier camp`d or carrying my knapsack and gun, or a miner
     in California,
Or rude in my home in Dakota`s woods, my diet meat, my drink from
     the spring,
Or withdrawn to muse and meditate in some deep recess,
Far from the clank of crowds intervals passing rapt and happy,
Aware of the fresh free giver the flowing Missouri, aware of
     mighty Niagara,
Aware of the buffalo herds grazing the plains, the hirsute and
     strong-breasted bull,
Of earth, rocks, Fifth-month flowers experienced, stars, rain, snow,
     my amaze,
Having studied the mocking-bird`s tones and the flight of the
     mountain-hawk,
And heard at dawn the unrivall`d one, the hermit thrush from the
     swamp-cedars,
Solitary, singing in the West, I strike up for a New World.