55. 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,            5   
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.

56. 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,            5   
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.

57. A Promise to California



A PROMISE to California,       
Also to the great Pastoral Plains, and for Oregon:       
Sojourning east a while longer, soon I travel toward you, to remain, to teach robust American love;       
For I know very well that I and robust love belong among you, inland, and along the Western Sea;       
For These States tend inland, and toward the Western Sea—and I will also.

58. Here the Frailest Leaves of Me



HERE the frailest leaves of me, and yet my strongest-lasting:       
Here I shade and hide my thoughts—I myself do not expose them,       
And yet they expose me more than all my other poems.

59. 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 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,            5   
Then I am pensive—I hastily walk away, fill’d with the bitterest envy.

60. What think You I take my Pen in Hand?



WHAT think you I take my pen in hand to record?       
The battle-ship, perfect-model’d, majestic, that I saw pass the offing to-day under full sail?       
The splendors of the past day? Or the splendor of the night that envelopes me?       
Or the vaunted glory and growth of the great city spread around me?—No;       
But I record of two simple men I saw to-day, on the pier, in the midst of the crowd, parting the parting of dear friends;            5   
The one to remain hung on the other’s neck, and passionately kiss’d him,       
While the one to depart, tightly prest the one to remain in his arms.

61. A Glimpse



A GLIMPSE, through an interstice caught,       
Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room, around the stove, late of a winter night—And I unremark’d seated in a corner;       
Of a youth who loves me, and whom I love, silently approaching, and seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand;       
A long while, amid the noises of coming and going—of drinking and oath and smutty jest,       
There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, perhaps not a word.

62. No Labor-Saving Machine



NO labor-saving machine,       
Nor discovery have I made;       
Nor will I be able to leave behind me any wealthy bequest to found a hospital or library,       
Nor reminiscence of any deed of courage, for America,       
Nor literary success, nor intellect—nor book for the book-shelf;            5   
Only a few carols, vibrating through the air, I leave,       
For comrades and lovers.

63. A Leaf for Hand in Hand



A LEAF for hand in hand!       
You natural persons old and young!       
You on the Mississippi, and on all the branches and bayous of the Mississippi!       
You friendly boatmen and mechanics! You roughs!       
You twain! And all processions moving along the streets!            5   
I wish to infuse myself among you till I see it common for you to walk hand in hand

64. To the East and to the West



TO the East and to the West;       
To the man of the Seaside State, and of Pennsylvania,       
To the Kanadian of the North—to the Southerner I love;       
These, with perfect trust, to depict you as myself—the germs are in all men;       
I believe the main purport of These States is to found a superb friendship, exalté, previously unknown,            5   
Because I perceive it waits, and has been always waiting, latent in all men.