Walt Whitman – We Two Boys Together Clinging

We Two Boys Together Clinging

WE two boys together clinging,
One the other never leaving,
Up and down the roads going, North and South excursions 
 making,
Power enjoying, elbows stretching, fingers clutching,
Arm'd and fearless, eating, drinking, sleeping, loving,
No law less than ourselves owning, sailing, soldiering, thieving,
 threatening,
Misers, menials, priests alarming, air breathing, water drinking, on 
 the turf or the sea-beach dancing,
Cities wrenching, ease scorning, statutes mocking, feebleness chasing,
Fulfilling our foray.

Walt Whitman – When I Peruse the Conquer’d Fame

When I Peruse the Conquer’d Fame

WHEN I peruse the conquer'd fame of heroes and the victories 
 of mighty generals, I do not envy the generals,
Nor the President in his Presidency, nor the rich in his great 
 house,
But when I hear of the brotherhood of lovers, how it was with 
 them,
How together through life, through dangers, odium, unchanging, 
 long and long,
Through youth and through middle and old age, how unfaltering, 
 how affectionate and faithful they were,
Then I am pensive—I hastily walk away fill'd with the bitterest 
 envy.

Walt Whitman – The Prairie-Grass Dividing

The Prairie-Grass Dividing

THE prairie-grass dividing, its special odor breathing,
I demand of it the spiritual corresponding,
Demand the most copious and close companionship of men,
Demand the blades to rise of words, acts, beings,
Those of the open atmosphere, coarse, sunlit, fresh, nutritious,
Those that go their own gait, erect, stepping with freedom and 
 command, leading not following,
Those with a never-quell'd audacity, those with sweet and lusty 
 flesh clear of taint,
Those that look carelessly in the faces of Presidents and governors,
 as to say Who are you?
Those of earth-born passion, simple, never constrain'd, never 
 obedient,
Those of inland America.

Walt Whitman – I Hear It Was Charged Against Me

I Hear It Was Charged Against Me

I HEAR it was charged against me that I sought to destroy institutions,

But really I am neither for nor against institutions,

(What indeed have I in common with them? or what with the 
 destruction of them?)

Only I will establish in the Mannahatta and in every city of these 
 States inland and seaboard,

And in the fields and woods, and above every keel little or large 
 that dents the water,

Without edifices or rules or trustees or any argument,

The institution of the dear love of comrades.

Walt Whitman – This Moment Yearning and Thoughtful

This Moment Yearning and Thoughtful

THIS moment yearning and thoughtful sitting alone,
It seems to me there are other men in other lands yearning and 
 thoughtful,
It seems to me I can look over and behold them in Germany,
 Italy, France, Spain,
Or far, far away, in China, or in Russia or Japan, talking other 
 dialects,
And it seems to me if I could know those men I should become 
 attached to them as I do to men in my own lands,
O I know we should be brethren and lovers,
I know I should be happy with them.

Walt Whitman – To a Stranger

To a Stranger

PASSING stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon 
 you,
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to 
 me as of a dream,)
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall'd as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste,
 matured,
You grew up with me, were a boy with me or a girl with me,
I ate with you and slept with you, your body has become not yours 
 only nor left my body mine only,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass, you 
 take of my beard, breast, hands, in return,
I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone 
 or wake at night alone,
I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

Walt Whitman – I Saw in Louisiana a Live-Oak Growing

I Saw in Louisiana a Live-Oak Growing

I SAW in Louisiana a live-oak growing,
All alone stood it and the moss hung down from the branches,
Without any companion it grew there uttering joyous leaves of 
 dark green,
And its look, rude, unbending, lusty, made me think of myself,
But I wonder'd how it could utter joyous leaves standing alone 
 there without its friend near, for I knew I could not,
And I broke off a twig with a certain number of leaves upon it,
 and twined around it a little moss,
And brought it away, and I have placed it in sight in my room,
It is not needed to remind me as of my own dear friends,
(For I believe lately I think of little else than of them,)
Yet it remains to me a curious token, it makes me think of manly 
 love;
For all that, and though the live-oak glistens there in Louisiana 
 solitary in a wide flat space,
Uttering joyous leaves all its life without a friend a lover near,
I know very well I could not.

Walt Whitman – Behold This Swarthy Face

Behold This Swarthy Face

BEHOLD this swarthy face, these gray eyes,
This beard, the white wool unclipt upon my neck,
My brown hands and the silent manner of me without charm;
Yet comes one a Manhattanese and ever at parting kisses me 
 lightly on the lips with robust love,
And I on the crossing of the street or on the ship's deck give a 
 kiss in return,
We observe that salute of American comrades land and sea,
We are those two natural and nonchalant persons.

Walt Whitman – City of Orgies

City of Orgies

CITY of orgies, walks and joys,

City whom that I have lived and sung in your midst will one day 
 make you illustrious,

Not the pageants of you, not your shifting tableaus, your spectacles,

      repay me,

Not the interminable rows of your houses, nor the ships at the 
 wharves,

Nor the processions in the streets, nor the bright windows with 
 goods in them,

Nor to converse with learn'd persons, or bear my share in the soiree 
 or feast;

Not those, but as I pass O Manhattan, your frequent and swift 
 flash of eyes offering me love,

Offering response to my own—these repay me,

Lovers, continual lovers, only repay me.

Walt Whitman – Trickle Drops

Trickle Drops

TRICKLE drops! my blue veins leaving!
O drops of me! trickle, slow drops,
Candid from me falling, drip, bleeding drops,
From wounds made to free you whence you were prison'd,
From my face, from my forehead and lips,
From my breast, from within where I was conceal'd, press forth 
 red drops, confession drops,
Stain every page, stain every song I sing, every word I say, bloody 
 drops,
Let them know your scarlet heat, let them glisten,
Saturate them with yourself all ashamed and wet,
Glow upon all I have written or shall write, bleeding drops,
Let it all be seen in your light, blushing drops.