song of myself…

I celebrate myself, and sing myself

And what I assume you shall assume,
For every belonging to me as good belongs to you…

 

Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess
the origin of all poetry
You shall possess the good of the earth and sun,
(there are millions of suns left)
You shall no longer take things at second or third hand,
nor look through the eyes of the dead,
nor feed on the spectres in books,
You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me,
You shall listen to all sides and filter them from yourself.

— Walt Whitman —

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