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.)