“I will sleep no more but arise, You oceans that have been calm within me! how I feel you, fathomless, stirring, preparing unprecedented waves and storms.”

Walt Whitman

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“Demon or bird! (said the boy’s soul,) Is it indeed toward your mate you sing? or is it mostly to me? For I, that was a child, my tongue’s use sleeping, Now I have heard you, Now in a moment I know what I am for—I awake, 150And already a thousand singers—a thousand songs, clearer, louder and more sorrowful than yours, A thousand warbling echoes have started to life within me, Never to die. O you singer, solitary, singing by yourself—projecting me; O solitary me, listening—nevermore shall I cease perpetuating you; 155Never more shall I escape, never more the reverberations, Never more the cries of unsatisfied love be absent from me, Never again leave me to be the peaceful child I was before what there, in the night, By the sea, under the yellow and sagging moon, The messenger there arous’d—the fire, the sweet hell within, 160The unknown want, the destiny of me.”


“Out of the rolling ocean the crowd came a drop gently to me,Whispering I love you, before long I die,I have travel'd a long way merely to look on you to touch you,For I could not die till I once look'd on you,For I fear'd I might afterward lose you. Now we have met, we have look'd, we are safe,Return in peace to the ocean my love,I too am part of that ocean my love, we are not so much separated,Behold the great rondure, the cohesion of all, how perfect!But as for me, for you, the irresistible sea is to separate us,As for an hour carrying us diverse, yet cannot carry us diverse forever;Be not impatient--a little space--know you I salute the air, theocean and the land,Every day at sundown for your dear sake my love.”


“O you singer, solitary, singing by yourself—projecting me;O solitary me, listening—nevermore shall I cease perpetuating you;Never more shall I escape, never more the reverberations,Never more the cries of unsatisfied love be absent from me,Never again leave me to be the peaceful child I was before what there, in the night,By the sea, under the yellow and sagging moon,The messenger there arous’d—the fire, the sweet hell within,The unknown want, the destiny of me.”


“Not I, nor anyone else can travel that road for you.You must travel it by yourself.It is not far. It is within reach.Perhaps you have been on it since you were born, and did not know. Perhaps it is everywhere - on water and land.”


“You have not known what you are--you have slumber'd upon yourself all your life; Your eye-lids have been the same as closed most of the time;What you have done returns already in mockeries;Your thrift, knowledge, prayers, if they do not return in mockeries, what is their return?The mockeries are not you;Underneath them, and within them, I see you lurk;”


“Your true soul and body appear before me. Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you be my poem, I whisper with my lips close to your ear, I have loved many women and men, but I love none better than you. O I have been dilatory and dumb, I should have made my way straight to you long ago, I should have blabb'd nothing but you, I should have chanted nothing but you. I will leave all and come and make the hymns of you, none has understood you, but I understand you, none has done justice to you, you have not done justice to yourself, none but has found you imperfect, I only find no imperfection in you, none but would subordinate you, I only am he who will never consent to subordinate you, I only am he who places over you no master, owner, better, God, beyond what waits instrinsically in yourself. O I could sing such grandeurs and glories about you! You have not known what you are, you have slumber'd upon yourself all your life, Your eyelids have been the same as closed most of the time. I pursue you where none else has pursued you. Conceal you from others or from yourself, they do not conceal you from me. I give nothing to any one except I give the like carefully to you. These immense meadows, these interminable rivers, you are immense and interminable as they, these furies, elements, storms, motions of Nature, throes of apparent dissolution, you are he or she who is master or mistress over them, Master or mistress in your own right over Nature, elements, pain, passion, dissolution.”