Walt Whitman: Song of the Open Road, Part 7

Part 7

Here is the efflux of the soul, The efflux of the soul comes from within through embower'd gates,     ever provoking questions, These yearnings why are they? these thoughts in the darkness why are they? Why are there men and women that while they are nigh me the sunlight     expands my blood? Why when they leave me do my pennants of joy sink flat and lank? Why are there trees I never walk under but large and melodious     thoughts descend upon me? (I think they hang there winter and summer on those trees and always     drop fruit as I pass;) What is it I interchange so suddenly with strangers? What with some driver as I ride on the seat by his side? What with some fisherman drawing his seine by the shore as I walk by     and pause? What gives me to be free to a woman's and man's good-will? what     gives them to be free to mine?