Walt Whitman
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Leaves of Grass

A Walt Whitman Collection

Book II. Starting From Paumanok

Chapter XII

Democracy! near at hand to you a throat is now inflating itself and
     joyfully singing.

Ma femme! for the brood beyond us and of us,
For those who belong here and those to come,
I exultant to be ready for them will now shake out carols stronger
     and haughtier than have ever yet been heard upon earth.

I will make the songs of passion to give them their way,
And your songs outlaw`d offenders, for I scan you with kindred eyes,
     and carry you with me the same as any.

I will make the true poem of riches,
To earn for the body and the mind whatever adheres and goes forward
     and is not dropt by death;
I will effuse egotism and show it underlying all, and I will be the
     bard of personality,
And I will show of male and female that either is but the equal of
     the other,
And sexual organs and acts! do you concentrate in me, for I am determin`d
     to tell you with courageous clear voice to prove you illustrious,
And I will show that there is no imperfection in the present, and
     can be none in the future,
And I will show that whatever happens to anybody it may be turn`d to
     beautiful results,
And I will show that nothing can happen more beautiful than death,
And I will thread a thread through my poems that time and events are
     compact,
And that all the things of the universe are perfect miracles, each
     as profound as any.

I will not make poems with reference to parts,
But I will make poems, songs, thoughts, with reference to ensemble,
And I will not sing with reference to a day, but with reference to
     all days,
And I will not make a poem nor the least part of a poem but has
     reference to the soul,
Because having look`d at the objects of the universe, I find there
     is no one nor any particle of one but has reference to the soul.