} To a Western Boy

Many things to absorb I teach to help you become eleve of mine;
Yet if blood like mine circle not in your veins,
If you be not silently selected by lovers and do not silently select lovers,
Of what use is it that you seek to become eleve of mine?

} Fast Anchor’d Eternal O Love!

Fast-anchor’d eternal O love!  O woman I love! 
O bride!  O wife! more resistless than I can tell, the thought of you! 
Then separate, as disembodied or another born,
Ethereal, the last athletic reality, my consolation,
I ascend, I float in the regions of your love O man,
O sharer of my roving life.

} Among the Multitude

Among the men and women the multitude,
I perceive one picking me out by secret and divine signs,
Acknowledging none else, not parent, wife, husband, brother, child,
    any nearer than I am,
Some are baffled, but that one is not—­that one knows me.

Ah lover and perfect equal,
I meant that you should discover me so by faint indirections,
And I when I meet you mean to discover you by the like in you.

} O You Whom I Often and Silently Come

O you whom I often and silently come where you are that I may be with you,
As I walk by your side or sit near, or remain in the same room with you,
Little you know the subtle electric fire that for your sake is
    playing within me.

} That Shadow My Likeness

That shadow my likeness that goes to and fro seeking a livelihood,
    chattering, chaffering,
How often I find myself standing and looking at it where it flits,
How often I question and doubt whether that is really me;
But among my lovers and caroling these songs,
O I never doubt whether that is really me.

} Full of Life Now

Full of life now, compact, visible,
I, forty years old the eighty-third year of the States,
To one a century hence or any number of centuries hence,
To you yet unborn these, seeking you.

When you read these I that was visible am become invisible,
Now it is you, compact, visible, realizing my poems, seeking me,
Fancying how happy you were if I could be with you and become your comrade;
Be it as if I were with you. (Be not too certain but I am now with you.)

[Book VI]

} Salut au Monde!

1
O take my hand Walt Whitman! 
Such gliding wonders! such sights and sounds! 
Such join’d unended links, each hook’d to the next,
Each answering all, each sharing the earth with all.

What widens within you Walt Whitman? 
What waves and soils exuding? 
What climes? what persons and cities are here? 
Who are the infants, some playing, some slumbering? 
Who are the girls? who are the married women? 
Who are the groups of old men going slowly with their arms about
    each other’s necks? 
What rivers are these? what forests and fruits are these? 
What are the mountains call’d that rise so high in the mists? 
What myriads of dwellings are they fill’d with dwellers?