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Whitman, Walt, 1819-1892

"Poems By Walt Whitman"


He walks with perfect ease in the Capitol,
He walks among the Congress, and one representative says to another, "_Here
is our equal, appearing and new_."

4.
Then the mechanics take him for a mechanic,
And the soldiers suppose him to be a soldier, and the sailors that he has
followed the sea,
And the authors take him for an author, and the artists for an artist,
And the labourers perceive he could labour with them and love them;
No matter what the work is, that he is the one to follow it, or has
followed it,
No matter what the nation, that he might find his brothers and sisters
there.
The English believe he comes of their English stock,
A Jew to the Jew he seems--a Russ to the Russ--usual and near, removed from
none.
Whoever he looks at in the travellers' coffee-house claims him;
The Italian or Frenchman is sure, and the German is sure, and the Spaniard
is sure, and the island Cuban is sure;
The engineer, the deck-hand on the great lakes, or on the Mississippi, or
St. Lawrence, or Sacramento, or Hudson, or Paumanok Sound, claims him.
The gentleman of perfect blood acknowledges his perfect blood;
The insulter, the prostitute, the angry person, the beggar, see themselves
in the ways of him--he strangely transmutes them,
They are not vile any more--they hardly know themselves, they are so grown.


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