University of Virginia Library

3.

1. COME closer to me,
Push closer, my lovers, and take the best I possess,
Yield closer and closer, and give me the best you
     possess.
2. This is unfinished business with me—How is it with
     you?
I was chilled with the cold types, cylinder, wet paper
     between us.
3. Male and Female!
I pass so poorly with paper and types, I must pass
     with the contact of bodies and souls.
4. American masses!
I do not thank you for liking me as I am, and liking
     the touch of me—I know that it is good for you
     to do so.
5. Workmen and Workwomen!
Were all educations, practical and ornamental, well
     displayed out of me, what would it amount to?
Were I as the head teacher, charitable proprietor,
     wise statesman, what would it amount to?

144

Were I to you as the boss employing and paying
     you, would that satisfy you?
6. The learned, virtuous, benevolent, and the usual
     terms,
A man like me, and never the usual terms.
7. Neither a servant nor a master am I,
I take no sooner a large price than a small price—
     I will have my own, whoever enjoys me,
I will be even with you, and you shall be even
     with me.
8. If you stand at work in a shop, I stand as nigh as
     the nighest in the same shop,
If you bestow gifts on your brother or dearest friend,
     I demand as good as your brother or dearest
     friend,
If your lover, husband, wife, is welcome by day or
     night, I must be personally as welcome,
If you become degraded, criminal, ill, then I become
     so for your sake,
If you remember your foolish and outlawed deeds, do
     you think I cannot remember my own foolish
     and outlawed deeds? plenty of them;
If you carouse at the table, I carouse at the opposite
     side of the table,
If you meet some stranger in the streets, and love
     him or her, do I not often meet strangers in the
     street, and love them?
If you see a good deal remarkable in me, I see just
     as much, perhaps more, in you.

145

9. Why, what have you thought of yourself?
Is it you then that thought yourself less?
Is it you that thought the President greater than
     you?
Or the rich better off than you? or the educated
     wiser than you?
10. Because you are greasy or pimpled, or that you was
     once drunk, or a thief, or diseased, or rheumatic,
     or a prostitute, or are so now, or from frivolity or
     impotence, or that you are no scholar, and never
     saw your name in print, do you give in that you
     are any less immortal?
11. Souls of men and women! it is not you I call unseen,
     unheard, untouchable and untouching,
It is not you I go argue pro and con about, and to
     settle whether you are alive or no,
I own publicly who you are, if nobody else owns—
     I see and hear you, and what you give and take,
What is there you cannot give and take?
12. I see not merely that you are polite or white-faced,
     married, single, citizens of old States, citizens of
     new States,
Eminent in some profession, a lady or gentleman in a
     parlor, or dressed in the jail uniform, or pulpit
     uniform;
Grown, half-grown, and babe, of this country and
     every country, indoors and outdoors, one just as
     much as the other, I see,
And all else is behind or through them.

146

13. The wife—and she is not one jot less than the
     husband,
The daughter—and she is just as good as the son,
The mother—and she is every bit as much as the
     father.
14. Offspring of those not rich, boys apprenticed to
     trades,
Young fellows working on farms, and old fellows
     working on farms,
The näive, the simple and hardy, he going to the
     polls to vote, he who has a good time, and he
     has who a bad time,
Mechanics, southerners, new arrivals, laborers, sailors,
     man-o'wars-men, merchantmen, coasters,
All these I see—but nigher and farther the same I
     see,
None shall escape me, and none shall wish to escape
     me.
15. I bring what you much need, yet always have,
Not money, amours, dress, eating, but as good;
I send no agent or medium, offer no representative
     of value, but offer the value itself.
16. There is something that comes home to one now and
     perpetually,
It is not what is printed, preached, discussed—it
     eludes discussion and print,
It is not to be put in a book—it is not in this
     book,
It is for you, whoever you are—it is no farther from
     you than your hearing and sight are from you,

147

It is hinted by nearest, commonest, readiest—it is
     not them, though it is endlessly provoked by
     them, (what is there ready and near you now?)
17. You may read in many languages, yet read nothing
     about it,
You may read the President's Message, and read
     nothing about it there,
Nothing in the reports from the State department or
     Treasury department, or in the daily papers or
     the weekly papers,
Or in the census returns, assessors' returns, prices
     current, or any accounts of stock.
18. The sun and stars that float in the open air—the
     apple-shaped earth, and we upon it—surely the
     drift of them is something grand!
I do not know what it is, except that it is grand,
     and that it is happiness,
And that the enclosing purport of us here is not a
     speculation, or bon-mot, or reconnoissance,
And that it is not something which by luck may
     turn out well for us, and without luck must be
     a failure for us,
And not something which may yet be retracted in
     a certain contingency.
19. The light and shade, the curious sense of body
     and identity, the greed that with perfect com-
     plaisance devours all things, the endless pride
     and out-stretching of man, unspeakable joys and
     sorrows,
The wonder every one sees in every one else he sees,
     and the wonders that fill each minute of time for-
     ever, and each acre of surface and space forever,

148

Have you reckoned them for a trade, or farm-work?
     or for the profits of a store? or to achieve your-
     self a position? or to fill a gentleman's leisure,
     or a lady's leisure?
20. Have you reckoned the landscape took substance and
     form that it might be painted in a picture?
Or men and women that they might be written of,
     and songs sung?
Or the attraction of gravity, and the great laws and
     harmonious combinations, and the fluids of the
     air, as subjects for the savans?
Or the brown land and the blue sea for maps and
     charts?
Or the stars to be put in constellations and named
     fancy names?
Or that the growth of seeds is for agricultural tables,
     or agriculture itself?
21. Old institutions—these arts, libraries, legends, col-
     lections, and the practice handed along in manu-
     factures—will we rate them so high?
Will we rate our cash and business high? I have
     no objection,
I rate them high as the highest—then a child born
     of a woman and man I rate beyond all rate.
22. We thought our Union grand, and our Constitution
     grand,
I do not say they are not grand and good, for they
     are,
I am this day just as much in love with them as
     you,

149

Then I am in love with you, and with all my fellows
     upon the earth.
23. We consider bibles and religions divine—I do not
     say they are not divine,
I say they have all grown out of you, and may grow
     out of you still,
It is not they who give the life—it is you who give
     the life,
Leaves are not more shed from the trees, or trees
     from the earth, than they are shed out of you.
24. The sum of all known reverence I add up in you,
     whoever you are,
The President is there in the White House for you—
     it is not you who are here for him,
The Secretaries act in their bureaus for you—not
     you here for them,
The Congress convenes every Twelfth Month for
     you,
Laws, courts, the forming of States, the charters of
     cities, the going and coming of commerce and
     mails, are all for you.
25. All doctrines, all politics and civilization, exurge from
     you,
All sculpture and monuments, and anything inscribed
     anywhere, are tallied in you,
The gist of histories and statistics as far back as the
     records reach, is in you this hour, and myths
     and tales the same,
If you were not breathing and walking here, where
     would they all be?

150

The most renowned poems would be ashes, orations
     and plays would be vacuums.
26. All architecture is what you do to it when you look
     upon it,
Did you think it was in the white or gray stone?
     or the lines of the arches and cornices?
27. All music is what awakes from you, when you are
     reminded by the instruments,
It is not the violins and the cornets—it is not the
     oboe nor the beating drums, nor the score of the
     baritone singer singing his sweet romanza—nor
     that of the men's chorus, nor that of the women's
     chorus,
It is nearer and farther than they.
28. Will the whole come back then?
Can each see signs of the best by a look in the
     looking-glass? is there nothing greater or more?
Does all sit there with you, and here with me?
29. The old, forever-new things—you foolish child! the
     closest, simplest things, this moment with you,
Your person, and every particle that relates to your
     person,
The pulses of your brain, waiting their chance and
     encouragement at every deed or sight,
Anything you do in public by day, and anything
     you do in secret between-days,
What is called right and what is called wrong—
     what you behold or touch, or what causes your
     anger or wonder,

151

The ankle-chain of the slave, the bed of the bed-
     house, the cards of the gambler, the plates of
     the forger,
What is seen or learnt in the street, or intuitively
     learnt,
What is learnt in the public school, spelling, reading,
     writing, ciphering, the black-board, the teacher's
     diagrams,
The panes of the windows, all that appears through
     them, the going forth in the morning, the aimless
     spending of the day,
(What is it that you made money? What is it that you
     got what you wanted?)
The usual routine, the work-shop, factory, yard, office,
     store, desk,
The jaunt of hunting or fishing, and the life of hunt-
     ing or fishing,
Pasture-life, foddering, milking, herding, and all the
     personnel and usages,
The plum-orchard, apple-orchard, gardening, seed-
     lings, cuttings, flowers, vines,
Grains, manures, marl, clay, loam, the subsoil
     plough, the shovel, pick, rake, hoe, irrigation,
     draining,
The curry-comb, the horse-cloth, the halter, bridle,
     bits, the very wisps of straw,
The barn and barn-yard, the bins, mangers, mows,
     racks,
Manufactures, commerce, engineering, the building of
     cities, every trade carried on there, and the
     implements of every trade,
The anvil, tongs, hammer, the axe and wedge, the
     square, mitre, jointer, smoothing-plane,

152

The plumbob, trowel, level, the wall-scaffold, the
     work of walls and ceilings, or any mason-work,
The steam-engine, lever, crank, axle, piston, shaft,
     air-pump, boiler, beam, pulley, hinge, flange,
     band, bolt, throttle, governors, up and down
     rods,
The ship's compass, the sailor's tarpaulin, the stays
     and lanyards, the ground tackle for anchoring or
     mooring, the life-boat for wrecks,
The sloop's tiller, the pilot's wheel and bell, the yacht
     or fish-smack—the great gay-pennanted three-
     hundred-foot steamboat, under full headway, with
     her proud fat breasts, and her delicate swift-
     flashing paddles,
The trail, line, hooks, sinkers, and the seine, and
     hauling the seine,
The arsenal, small-arms, rifles, gunpowder, shot, caps,
     wadding, ordnance for war, and carriages;
Every-day objects, house-chairs, carpet, bed, coun-
     terpane of the bed, him or her sleeping at night,
     wind blowing, indefinite noises,
The snow-storm or rain-storm, the tow-trowsers, the
     lodge-hut in the woods, the still-hunt,
City and country, fire-place, candle, gas-light, heater,
     aqueduct,
The message of the Governor, Mayor, Chief of Police
     —the dishes of breakfast, dinner, supper,
The bunk-room, the fire-engine, the string-team, the
     car or truck behind,
The paper I write on or you write on, every word we
     write, every cross and twirl of the pen, and the
     curious way we write what we think, yet very
     faintly,

153

The directory, the detector, the ledger, the books in
     ranks on the book-shelves, the clock attached to
     the wall,
The ring on your finger, the lady's wristlet, the scent-
     powder, the druggist's vials and jars, the draught
     of lager-beer,
The etui of surgical instruments, the etui of oculist's
     or aurist's instruments, or dentist's instruments,
The permutating lock that can be turned and locked
     as many different ways as there are minutes in a
     year,
Glass-blowing, nail-making, salt-making, tin-roofing,
     shingle-dressing, candle-making, lock-making and
     hanging,
Ship-carpentering, dock-building, fish-curing, ferrying,
     stone-breaking, flagging of side-walks by flaggers,
The pump, the pile-driver, the great derrick, the coal-
     kiln and brick-kiln,
Coal-mines, all that is down there, the lamps in the
     darkness, echoes, songs, what meditations, what
     vast native thoughts looking through smutch'd
     faces,
Iron-works, forge-fires in the mountains, or by river-
     banks, men around feeling the melt with huge
     crowbars—lumps of ore, the due combining of
     ore, limestone, coal—the blast-furnace and the
     puddling-furnace, the loup-lump at the bottom of
     the melt at last—the rolling-mill, the stumpy
     bars of pig-iron, the strong clean-shaped T rail
     for railroads,
Oil-works, silk-works, white-lead-works, the sugar-
     house, steam-saws, the great mills and factories,
Lead-mines, and all that is done in lead-mines, or
     with the lead afterward,

154

Copper-mines, the sheets of copper, and what is
     formed out of the sheets, and all the work in
     forming it,
Stone-cutting, shapely trimmings for façades, or win-
     dow or door lintels—the mallet, the tooth-chisel,
     the jib to protect the thumb,
Oakum, the oakum-chisel, the caulking-iron—the
     kettle of boiling vault-cement, and the fire under
     the kettle,
The cotton-bale, the stevedore's hook, the saw and
     buck of the sawyer, the screen of the coal-
     screener, the mould of the moulder, the work-
     ing-knife of the butcher, the ice-saw, and all the
     work with ice,
The four-double cylinder press, the hand-press, the
     frisket and tympan, the compositor's stick and
     rule, type-setting, making up the forms, all the
     work of newspaper counters, folders, carriers,
     news-men,
The implements for daguerreotyping—the tools of
     the rigger, grappler, sail-maker, block-maker,
Goods of gutta-percha, papier-mache, colors, brushes,
     brush-making, glazier's implements,
The veneer and glue-pot, the confectioner's orna-
     ments, the decanter and glasses, the shears and
     flat-iron,
The awl and knee-strap, the pint measure and quart
     measure, the counter and stool, the writing-pen
     of quill or metal—the making of all sorts of
     edged tools,
The ladders and hanging-ropes of the gymnasium,
     manly exercises, the game of base-ball, running,
     leaping, pitching quoits,

155

The designs for wall-papers, oil-cloths, carpets, the
     fancies for goods for women, the book-binder's
     stamps,
The brewery, brewing, the malt, the vats, every
     thing that is done by brewers, also by wine-
     makers, also vinegar-makers,
Leather-dressing, coach-making, boiler-making, rope-
     twisting, distilling, sign-painting, lime-burning,
     coopering, cotton-picking—electro-plating, elec-
     trotyping, stereotyping,
Stave-machines, planing-machines, reaping-machines,
     ploughing-machines, thrashing-machines, steam-
     wagons,
The cart of the carman, the omnibus, the ponderous
     dray,
The wires of the electric telegraph stretched on land,
     or laid at the bottom of the sea, and then the
     message in an instant from a thousand miles off,
The snow-plough, and two engines pushing it—the
     ride in the express-train of only one car, the
     swift go through a howling storm—the locomo-
     tive, and all that is done about a locomotive,
The bear-hunt or coon-hunt—the bonfire of shavings
     in the open lot in the city, and the crowd of
     children watching,
The blows of the fighting-man, the upper-cut, and
     one-two-three,
Pyrotechny, letting off colored fire-works at night,
     fancy figures and jets,
Shop-windows, coffins in the sexton's ware-room, fruit
     on the fruit-stand—beef in the butcher's stall,
     the slaughter-house of the butcher, the butcher
     in his killing-clothes,

156

The area of pens of live pork, the killing-hammer, the
     hog-hook, the scalder's tub, gutting, the cutter's
     cleaver, the packer's maul, and the plenteous
     winter-work of pork-packing,
Flour-works, grinding of wheat, rye, maize, rice—
     the barrels and the half and quarter barrels, the
     loaded barges, the high piles on wharves and
     levees,
Bread and cakes in the bakery, the milliner's rib-
     bons, the dress-maker's patterns, the tea-table,
     the home-made sweetmeats;
Cheap literature, maps, charts, lithographs, daily and
     weekly newspapers,
The column of wants in the one-cent paper, the news
     by telegraph, amusements, operas, shows,
The business parts of a city, the trottoirs of a city
     when thousands of well-dressed people walk up
     and down,
The cotton, woollen, linen you wear, the money you
     make and spend,
Your room and bed-room, your piano-forte, the stove
     and cook-pans,
The house you live in, the rent, the other tenants, the
     deposit in the savings-bank, the trade at the
     grocery,
The pay on Seventh Day night, the going home, and
     the purchases;
In them the heft of the heaviest—in them far more
     than you estimated, and far less also,
In them realities for you and me—in them poems for
     you and me,
In them, not yourself—you and your Soul enclose all
     things, regardless of estimation,

157

In them themes, hints, provokers—if not, the whole
     earth has no themes, hints, provokers, and never
     had.
30. I do not affirm what you see beyond is futile—I do
     not advise you to stop,
I do not say leadings you thought great are not great,
But I say that none lead to greater, sadder, happier,
     than those lead to.
31. Will you seek afar off? You surely come back at last,
In things best known to you, finding the best, or as
     good as the best,
In folks nearest to you finding also the sweetest,
     strongest, lovingest,
Happiness, knowledge, not in another place, but this
     place—not for another hour, but this hour,
Man in the first you see or touch—always in your
     friend, brother, nighest neighbor—Woman in
     your mother, lover, wife,
The popular tastes and occupations taking precedence
     in poems or any where,
You workwomen and workmen of These States having
     your own divine and strong life,
Looking the President always sternly in the face,
     unbending, nonchalant,
Understanding that he is to be kept by you to short
     and sharp account of himself,
And all else thus far giving place to men and women
     like you.
32. O you robust, sacred!
I cannot tell you how I love you;

158

All I love America for, is contained in men and
     women like you.
33. When the psalm sings instead of the singer,
When the script preaches instead of the preacher,
When the pulpit descends and goes instead of the
     carver that carved the supporting-desk,
When I can touch the body of books, by night or by
     day, and when they touch my body back again,
When the holy vessels, or the bits of the eucharist,
     or the lath and plast, procreate as effectually as
     the young silver-smiths or bakers, or the masons
     in their over-alls,
When a university course convinces like a slumbering
     woman and child convince,
When the minted gold in the vault smiles like the
     night-watchman's daughter,
When warrantee deeds loafe in chairs opposite, and
     are my friendly companions,
I intend to reach them my hand, and make as much
     of them as I do of men and women like you.

159