Leaves of Grass, by Walt Whitman

Leaves of Grass (1891-92)

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From the 1867 edition L. of G.

SMALL THE THEME OF MY CHANT.

Small the theme of my Chant, yet the greatest—namely, One's-
Self—a simple, separate person. That, for the use of the
New World, I sing.

Man's physiology complete, from top to toe, I sing. Not physi-
         ognomy alone, nor brain alone, is worthy for the Muse;—I
         say the Form complete is worthier far. The Female equally
         with the Male, I sing.

Nor cease at the theme of One's-Self. I speak the word of the
modern, the word En-Masse.

My Days I sing, and the Lands—with interstice I knew of hap-
less War.

(O friend, whoe'er you are, at last arriving hither to commence,
I feel through every leaf the pressure of your hand, which I
return.

And thus upon our journey, footing the road, and more than
once, and link'd together let us go.)

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