Page:Leaves of Grass (1882).djvu/381

Rh In the annual return of the seasons,

In the hilarity of youth,

In the strength and flush of manhood,

In the grandeur and exquisiteness of old age,

In the superb vistas of death.

Wonderful to depart!

Wonderful to be here!

The heart, to jet the all-alike and innocent blood!

To breathe the air, how delicious!

To speak—to walk—to seize something by the hand!

To prepare for sleep, for bed, to look on my rose-color'd flesh!

To be conscious of my body, so satisfied, so large!

To be this incredible God I am!

To have gone forth among other Gods, these men and women I love.

Wonderful how I celebrate you and myself!

How my thoughts play subtly at the spectacles around!

How the clouds pass silently overhead!

How the earth darts on and on! and how the sun, moon, stars, dart on and on!

How the water sports and sings! (surely it is alive!)

How the trees rise and stand up, with strong trunks, with branches and leaves!

(Surely there is something more in each of the trees, some living soul.)

O amazement of things—even the least particle!

O spirituality of things!

O strain musical flowing through ages and continents, now reaching me and America!

I take your strong chords, intersperse them, and cheerfully pass them forward.

I too carol the sun, usher'd or at noon, or as now, setting,

I too throb to the brain and beauty of the earth and of all the growths of the earth,

I too have felt the resistless call of myself.

As I steam'd down the Mississippi,

As I wandered over the prairies,

As I have lived, as I have looked through my windows my eyes,

As I went forth in the morning, as I beheld the light breaking in the east,