 | Leaves of grass. |  |
1.
IN paths untrodden,
In the growth by margins of pond-waters,
Escaped from the life that exhibits itself,
From all the standards hitherto published—from
the pleasures, profits, conformities,
Which too long I was offering to feed to my Soul
Clear to me now, standards not yet published—
clear to me that my Soul,
That the Soul of the man I speak for, feeds, rejoices
only in comrades;
Here, by myself, away from the clank of the world,
Tallying and talked to here by tongues aromatic,
No longer abashed—for in this secluded spot I can
respond as I would not dare elsewhere,
Strong upon me the life that does not exhibit itself,
yet contains all the rest,
Resolved to sing no songs to-day but those of manly
attachment,
Projecting them along that substantial life,
Bequeathing, hence, types of athletic love,
Afternoon, this delicious Ninth Month, in my forty-
first year,
I proceed, for all who are, or have been, young
men,
To tell the secret of my nights and days,
To celebrate the need of comrades.
In the growth by margins of pond-waters,
Escaped from the life that exhibits itself,
From all the standards hitherto published—from
the pleasures, profits, conformities,
Which too long I was offering to feed to my Soul
Clear to me now, standards not yet published—
clear to me that my Soul,
That the Soul of the man I speak for, feeds, rejoices
only in comrades;
Here, by myself, away from the clank of the world,
Tallying and talked to here by tongues aromatic,
No longer abashed—for in this secluded spot I can
respond as I would not dare elsewhere,
Strong upon me the life that does not exhibit itself,
yet contains all the rest,
Resolved to sing no songs to-day but those of manly
attachment,
Projecting them along that substantial life,
Bequeathing, hence, types of athletic love,
342
first year,
I proceed, for all who are, or have been, young
men,
To tell the secret of my nights and days,
To celebrate the need of comrades.
| Leaves of grass. | |