Walt Whitman: Starting from Paumanok, Part 12

Part 12

Democracy! near at hand to you a throat is now inflating itself and     joyfully singing.
Ma femme! for the brood beyond us and of us, For those who belong here and those to come, I exultant to be ready for them will now shake out carols stronger     and haughtier than have ever yet been heard upon earth.
I will make the songs of passion to give them their way, And your songs outlaw'd offenders, for I scan you with kindred eyes,     and carry you with me the same as any.
I will make the true poem of riches, To earn for the body and the mind whatever adheres and goes forward     and is not dropt by death; I will effuse egotism and show it underlying all, and I will be the     bard of personality, And I will show of male and female that either is but the equal of     the other, And sexual organs and acts! do you concentrate in me, for I am determin'd     to tell you with courageous clear voice to prove you illustrious, And I will show that there is no imperfection in the present, and     can be none in the future, And I will show that whatever happens to anybody it may be turn'd to     beautiful results, And I will show that nothing can happen more beautiful than death, And I will thread a thread through my poems that time and events are     compact, And that all the things of the universe are perfect miracles, each     as profound as any.
I will not make poems with reference to parts, But I will make poems, songs, thoughts, with reference to ensemble, And I will not sing with reference to a day, but with reference to     all days, And I will not make a poem nor the least part of a poem but has     reference to the soul, Because having look'd at the objects of the universe, I find there     is no one nor any particle of one but has reference to the soul.