Published Works

Books by Whitman



- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [begin page 109] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -




A WOMAN WAITS FOR ME.

1A WOMAN waits for me—she contains all, nothing is
lacking,
Yet all were lacking, if sex were lacking, or if the mois-
ture of the right man were lacking.

2Sex contains all,
Bodies, Souls, meanings, proofs, purities, delicacies, re-
sults, promulgations,
Songs, commands, health, pride, the maternal mystery,
the seminal milk;
All hopes, benefactions, bestowals,
All the passions, loves, beauties, delights of the earth,
All the governments, judges, gods, follow'd persons of
the earth,
These are contain'd in sex, as parts of itself, and justi-
fications of itself.

3Without shame the man I like knows and avows the
deliciousness of his sex,
Without shame the woman I like knows and avows hers.

4Now I will dismiss myself from impassive women,
I will go stay with her who waits for me, and with those
women that are warm-blooded and sufficient for
me;
I see that they understand me, and do not deny me;
I see that they are worthy of me—I will be the robust
husband of those women.

5They are not one jot less than I am,
They are tann'd in the face by shining suns and blow-
ing winds,
Their flesh has the old divine suppleness and strength,
They know how to swim, row, ride, wrestle, shoot, run,
strike, retreat, advance, resist, defend them-
selves,


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [begin page 110] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -



They are ultimate in their own right—they are calm,
clear, well-possess'd of themselves.

6I draw you close to me, you women!
I cannot let you go, I would do you good,
I am for you, and you are for me, not only for our own
sake, but for others' sakes;
Envelop'd in you sleep greater heroes and bards,
They refuse to awake at the touch of any man but me.

7It is I, you women—I make my way,
I am stern, acrid, large, undissuadable—but I love you,
I do not hurt you any more than is necessary for you,
I pour the stuff to start sons and daughters fit for
These States—I press with slow rude muscle,
I brace myself effectually—I listen to no entreaties,
I dare not withdraw till I deposit what has so long
accumulated within me.

8Through you I drain the pent-up rivers of myself,
In you I wrap a thousand onward years,
On you I graft the grafts of the best-beloved of me and
America,
The drops I distil upon you shall grow fierce and ath-
letic girls, new artists, musicians, and singers,
The babes I beget upon you are to beget babes in their
turn,
I shall demand perfect men and women out of my love-
spendings,
I shall expect them to interpenetrate with others as I
and you interpenetrate now,
I shall count on the fruits of the gushing showers of
them, as I count on the fruits of the gushing
showers I give now,
I shall look for loving crops from the birth, life, death,
immortality, I plant so lovingly now.

Comments?

Published Works | In Whitman's Hand | Life & Letters | Commentary | Resources | Pictures & Sound

Support the Archive | About the Archive

Distributed under a Creative Commons License. Matt Cohen, Ed Folsom, & Kenneth M. Price, editors.