51. Song of Myself (Walt Whitman, 1819-1892)

The past and present wilt - I have fill'd them, emptied them.
And proceed to fill my next fold of the future.

Listener up there! what have you to confide to me?
Look in my face while I snuff the sidle of evening,
(Talk honestly, no one else hears you, and I stay only a minute
longer.)

Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)

I concentrate toward them that are nigh, I wait on the door-slab.

Who has done his day's work? who will soonest be through with his
supper?
Who wishes to walk with me?

Will you speak before I am gone? will you prove already too late?

More: Song of Myself

________________________________

From Leaves of Grass, 1855 or thereabouts (Whitman published a lot of editions of this book).

Comments

Memoir Madness: Driven to Involuntary Commitment

Popular posts from this blog

Zomga.com -- Zomga

WSUX.com – WSUX

Close to Goal