Walt Whitman
Song of Myself (c. 1900)

1

I celebrate myself, and sing myself,

2

And what I assume you shall assume,

3

For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

 

 

4

I loafe and invite my soul,

5

I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.

 

 

6

My tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd from this soil, this air,

7

Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same,

8

I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,

9

Hoping to cease not till death.

 

 

10

Creeds and schools in abeyance,

11

Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten,

12

I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard,

13

Nature without check with original energy.