45. Are You the New person, drawn toward Me?



ARE you the new person drawn toward me?       
To begin with, take warning—I am surely far different from what you suppose;       
Do you suppose you will find in me your ideal?       
Do you think it so easy to have me become your lover?       
Do you think the friendship of me would be unalloy’d satisfaction?            5   
Do you think I am trusty and faithful?       
Do you see no further than this façade—this smooth and tolerant manner of me?       
Do you suppose yourself advancing on real ground toward a real heroic man?       
Have you no thought, O dreamer, that it may be all maya, illusion?

46. Roots and Leaves Themselves Alone



ROOTS and leaves themselves alone are these;       
Scents brought to men and women from the wild woods, and from the pond-side,       
Breast-sorrel and pinks of love—fingers that wind around tighter than vines,       
Gushes from the throats of birds, hid in the foliage of trees, as the sun is risen;       
Breezes of land and love—breezes set from living shores out to you on the living sea—to you, O sailors!            5   
Frost-mellow’d berries, and Third-month twigs, offer’d fresh to young persons wandering out in the fields when the winter breaks up,       
Love-buds, put before you and within you, whoever you are,       
Buds to be unfolded on the old terms;       
If you bring the warmth of the sun to them, they will open, and bring form, color, perfume, to you;       
If you become the aliment and the wet, they will become flowers, fruits, tall blanches and trees.   

47. Not Heat Flames up and Consumes



NOT heat flames up and consumes,       
Not sea-waves hurry in and out,       
Not the air, delicious and dry, the air of the ripe summer, bears lightly along white down-balls of myriads of seeds,       
Wafted, sailing gracefully, to drop where they may;       
Not these—O none of these, more than the flames of me, consuming, burning for his love whom I love!            5   
O none, more than I, hurrying in and out:       
—Does the tide hurry, seeking something, and never give up? O I the same;       
O nor down-balls, nor perfumes, nor the high, rain-emitting clouds, are borne through the open air,       
Any more than my Soul is borne through the open air,       
Wafted in all directions, O love, for friendship, for you.

48. 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,            5   
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;     10   
Let it all be seen in your light, blushing drops.

49. 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 tableaux, 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;            5   
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.

50. 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;            5   
We observe that salute of American comrades, land and sea,       
We are those two natural and nonchalant persons.

51. 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, its lover near—for I knew I could not;            5   
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;     10   
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.

52. 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,            5   
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.

53. 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 India—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,            5   
I know I should be happy with them.

54. 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,            5   
Without edifices, or rules, or trustees, or any argument,       
The institution of the dear love of comrades.