Song of Myself XVI

Each and every Sunday, we share a poem to lighten our soul. Comment your thoughts, short story or any poem you will love to see in a future post. Don’t forget to follow us like and share
Song of Myself XVI 

– Walt Whitman


I am of old and young, of the foolish as much as the wise,

Regardless of others, ever regardful of others,

Maternal as well as paternal, a child as well as a man,

Stuff’d with the stuff that is coarse and stuff’d with the stuff

that is fine,

One of the Nation of many nations, the smallest the same

and the largest the same,

A Southerner soon as a Northerner, a planter nonchalant

and hospitable down by the Oconee I live,

A Yankee bound my own way ready for trade, my joints the

limberest joints on earth and the sternest joints on earth,

A Kentuckian walking the vale of the Elkhorn in my deer-skin

leggings, a Louisianian or Georgian,

A boatman over lakes or bays or along coasts, a Hoosier,

Badger, Buckeye; 

At home on Kanadian snow-shoes or up in the bush, or

with fishermen off Newfoundland,

At home in the fleet of ice-boats, sailing with the rest and

tacking,

At home on the hills of Vermont or in the woods of Maine,

or the Texan ranch,

Comrade of Californians, comrade of free North-Westerners,

(loving their big proportions,)

Comrade of raftsmen and coalmen, comrade of all who

shake hands and welcome to drink and meat,

A learner with the simplest, a teacher of the thoughtfullest,

A novice beginning yet experient of myriads of seasons,

Of every hue and caste am I, of every rank and religion,

A farmer, mechanic, artist, gentleman, sailor, quaker,

Prisoner, fancy-man, rowdy, lawyer, physician, priest.

I resist any thing better than my own diversity,

Breathe the air but leave plenty after me,

And am not stuck up, and am in my place.

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