Walt Whitman

To the Sayers of Words

1

 
EARTH, round, rolling, compact—suns, moons, ani–
        mals—all these are words to be said;
Watery, vegetable, sauroid advances—beings, premoni–
        tions, lispings of the future,
Behold! these are vast words to be said.
 

2

 
Were you thinking that those were the words—
        those upright lines? those curves, angles, dots?
No, those are not the words—the substantial words
        are in the ground and sea,
They are in the air—they are in you.
 

3

 
Were you thinking that those were the words—
        those delicious sounds out of your friends’
        mouths?
No, the real words are more delicious than they.
 

4

 
Human bodies are words, myriads of words;
In the best poems re-appears the body, man’s or wo–
        man’s, well-shaped, natural, gay,
Every part able, active, receptive, without shame or
        the need of shame.
 

5

 
Air, soil, water, fire—these are words;
I myself am a word with them—my qualities inter–
        penetrate with theirs—my name is nothing to
        them;
Though it were told in the three thousand languages,
        what would air, soil, water, fire, know of my
        name?
 

6

 
A healthy presence, a friendly or commanding ges–
        ture, are words, sayings, meanings;
The charms that go with the mere looks of some men
        and women, are sayings and meanings also.
 

7

 
The workmanship of souls is by the inaudible words
        of the earth;
The great masters know the earth’s words, and use
        them more than the audible words.
 

8

 
Amelioration is one of the earth’s words;
The earth neither lags nor hastens;
It has all attributes, growths, effects, latent in itself
        from the jump;
It is not half beautiful only—defects and excrescences
        show just as much as perfections show.
 

9

 
The earth does not withhold, it is generous enough;
The truths of the earth continually wait, they are not
        so conceal’d either;
They are calm, subtle, untransmissible by print;
They are imbued through all things, conveying them–
        selves willingly,
Conveying a sentiment and invitation of the earth—I
        utter and utter,
I speak not, yet if you hear me not, of what avail am
        I to you?
To bear—to better—lacking these, of what avail
        am I?
 

10

 
(Accouche! Accouchez!
Will you rot your own fruit in yourself there?
Will you squat and stifle there?)
 

11

 
The earth does not argue,
Is not pathetic, has no arrangements,
Does not scream, haste, persuade, threaten, promise,
Makes no discriminations, has no conceivable failures,
Closes nothing, refuses nothing, shuts none out,
Of all the powers, objects, states, it notifies, shuts
        none out.
 

12

 
The earth does not exhibit itself, nor refuse to ex–
        hibit itself—possesses still underneath;
Underneath the ostensible sounds, the august chorus
        of heroes, the wail of slaves,
Persuasions of lovers, curses, gasps of the dying,
        laughter of young people, accents of bar–
        gainers,
Underneath these, possessing the words that never
        fail.
 

13

 
To her children, the words of the eloquent dumb
        great mother never fail;
The true words do not fail, for motion does not fail,
        and reflection does not fail;
Also the day and night do not fail, and the voyage we
 

14

 
Of the interminable sisters,
Of the ceaseless cotillions of sisters,
Of the centripetal and centrifugal sisters, the elder
        and younger sisters,
The beautiful sister we know dances on with the rest.
 

15

 
With her ample back towards every beholder,
With the fascinations of youth, and the equal fascina–
        tions of age,
Sits she whom I too love like the rest—sits undis–
        turb’d,
Holding up in her hand what has the character of a
        mirror, while her eyes glance back from it,
Glance as she sits, inviting none, denying none,
Holding a mirror day and night tirelessly before her
        own face.
 

16

 
Seen at hand, or seen at a distance,
Duly the twenty-four appear in public every day,
Duly approach and pass with their companions, or a
        companion,
Looking from no countenances of their own, but from
        the countenances of those who are with them,
From the countenances of children or women, or the
        manly countenance,
From the open countenances of animals, or from in–
        animate things,
From the landscape or waters, or from the exquisite
        apparition of the sky,
From our countenances, mine and yours, faithfully re–
        turning them,
Every day in public appearing without fail, but never
        twice with the same companions.
 

17

 
Embracing man, embracing all, proceed the three
        hundred and sixty-five resistlessly round the
        sun;
Embracing all, soothing, supporting, follow close three
        hundred and sixty-five offsets of the first, sure
        and necessary as they.
 

18

 
Tumbling on steadily, nothing dreading,
Sunshine, storm, cold, heat, forever withstanding.
        passing, carrying,
The Soul’s realization and determination still inherit–
        ing;
The fluid vacuum around and ahead still entering and
        dividing,
No balk retarding, no anchor anchoring, on no rock
        striking,
Swift, glad, content, unbereav’d, nothing losing,
Of all able and ready at any time to give strict ac–
        count,
The divine ship sails the divine sea.
 

19

 Whoever you are! motion and reflection are especi–
        ally for you;
The divine ship sails the divine sea for you.
 

20

 
Whoever you are! you are he or she for whom the
        earth is solid and liquid,
You are he or she for whom the sun and moon hang
        in the sky,
For none more than you are the present and the past,
For none more than you is immortality.
 

21

 
Each man to himself, and each woman to herself,
        such is the word of the past and present, and
        the word of immortality;
No one can acquire for another—not one!
Not one can grow for another—not one!
 

22

 
The song is to the singer, and comes back most to
        him;
The teaching is to the teacher, and comes back most
        to him;
The murder is to the murderer, and comes back most
        to him;
The theft is to the thief, and comes back most to him;
The love is to the lover, and comes back most to him;
The gift is to the giver, and comes back most to him
        —it cannot fail;
The oration is to the orator, the acting is to the actor
        and actress, not to the audience;
And no man understands any greatness or goodness
        but his own, or the indication of his own.
 

23

 
I swear the earth shall surely be complete to him or
        her who shall be complete!
I swear the earth remains jagged and broken only to
        him or her who remains broken and jagged!
 

24

 
I swear there is no greatness or power that does
        not emulate those of the earth!
I swear there can be no theory of any account, unless
        it corroborate the theory of the earth!
No politics, art, religion, behavior, or what not, is of
        account, unless it compare with the amplitude
        of the earth,
Unless it face the exactness; vitality, impartiality, rec–
        titude of the earth.
 

25

 
I swear I begin to see love with sweeter spasms than
        that which responds love!
It is that which contains itself—which never invites,
        and never refuses.
 

26

 
I swear I begin to see little or nothing in audible
        words!
I swear I think all merges toward the presentation of
        the unspoken meanings of the earth!
Toward him who sings the songs of the Body, and of
        the truths of the earth;
Toward him who makes the dictionaries of words that
        print cannot touch.
 

27

 
I swear I see what is better than to tell the best;
It is always to leave the best untold.
 

28

 
When I undertake to tell the best, I find I cannot,
My tongue is ineffectual on its pivots,
My breath will not be obedient to its organs,
I become a dumb man.
 

29

 
The best of the earth cannot be told anyhow—all
        or any is best;
It is not what you anticipated—it is cheaper, easier
        nearer;
Things are not dismiss’d from the places they held
        before;
The earth is just as positive and direct as it was be–
        fore;
Facts, religions, improvements, politics, trades, are as
        real as before;
But the Soul is also real,—it too is positive and
        direct;
No reasoning, no proof has establish’d it,
Undeniable proof has establish’d it.
 

30

 
This is a poem for the sayers of words—these are
        hints of meanings,
These are they that echo the tones of Souls, and
        the phrases of Souls;
If they did not echo the phrases of Souls, what were
        they then?
If they had not reference to you in especial, what were
        they then?
 

31

 
I swear I will never henceforth have to do with the
        faith that tells the best!
I will have to do only with that faith that leaves the
        best untold.
 

32

 
Say on, sayers!
Delve! mould! pile the words of the earth!
Work on—it is materials you bring, not breaths;
Work on, age after age! nothing is to be lost;
It may have to wait long, but it will certainly come in
        use;
When the materials are all prepared, the architects
        shall appear.
 

33

 
I swear to you the architects shall appear without
        fail! I announce them and lead them;
I swear to you they will understand you and justify
        you;
I swear to you the greatest among them shall be he
        who best knows you, and encloses all, and is
        faithful to all;
I swear to you, he and the rest shall not forget you—
        they shall perceive that you are not an iota less
        than they;
I swear to you, you shall be glorified in them.

Leaves of Grass

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