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Whitman, Walt, 1819-1892

"Poems By Walt Whitman"


Air, soil, water, fire--these are words;
I myself am a word with them--my qualities interpenetrate
with theirs--my name is nothing to them;
Though it were told in the three thousand languages, what would air, soil,
water, fire, know of my name?
A healthy presence, a friendly or commanding gesture, are words, sayings,
meanings;
The charms that go with the mere looks of some men and women are sayings
and meanings also.

2.
The workmanship of souls is by the inaudible words of the earth;
The great masters know the earth's words, and use them more than the
audible words.
Amelioration is one of the earth's words;
The earth neither lags nor hastens;
It has all attributes, growths, effects, latent in itself from the jump;
It is not half beautiful only--defects and excrescences show just as much
as perfections show.
The earth does not withhold--it is generous enough;
The truths of the earth continually wait, they are not so concealed either;
They are calm, subtle, untransmissible by print;
They are imbued through all things, conveying themselves willingly,
Conveying a sentiment and invitation of the earth. I utter and utter:
I speak not; yet, if you hear me not, of what avail am I to you?
To bear--to better; lacking these, of what avail am I?
_Accouche! Accouchez!_
Will you rot your own fruit in yourself there?
Will you squat and stifle there?
The earth does not argue,
Is not pathetic, has no arrangements,
Does not scream, haste, persuade, threaten, promise,
Makes no discriminations, has no conceivable failures,
Closes nothing, refuses nothing, shuts none out;
Of all the powers, objects, states, it notifies, shuts none out.


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