“Song of the Open Road” (5 of 15) by Walt Whitman [w/ Audio]

From this hour I ordain myself loos'd of 
limits and imaginary lines,
Going where I list, my own master total and
absolute,
Listening to others, considering well what
they say,
Pausing, searching, receiving,
contemplating,
Gently, but with undeniable will, divesting
myself of the holds that would hold me.
I inhale great draughts of space,
The east and the west are mine, and the
north and the south are mine.

I am larger, better than I thought,
I did not know I held so much goodness.

All seems beautiful to me,
I can repeat over to men and women You
have done such good to me I would do
the same to you.
I will recruit for myself and you as I go,
I will scatter myself among men and women
as I go,
I will toss a new gladness and roughness
among them,
Whoever denies me it shall not trouble me,
Whoever accepts me he or she shall be
blessed and shall bless me.

“Song of the Open Road” (4 of 9) by Walt Whitman [w/ Audio]

The earth expanding right hand and left
hand,
The picture alive, every part in its best light,
The music falling in where it is wanted, and
stopping where it is not wanted,
The cheerful voice of the public road, the
gay fresh sentiment of the road.

O highway I travel, do you say to me Do
not leave me?
Do you say Venture not--if you leave me
you are lost?
Do you say I am already prepared, I am
well-beaten and undenied, adhere to me?

O public road, I say back I am not afraid to
leave you, yet I love you,
You express me better than I can express
myself,
You shall be more to me than my poem.

I think heroic deeds were all conceiv'd in the
open air, and all free poems also,
I think I could stop here myself and do
miracles,
I think whatever I shall meet on the road I
shall like, and whoever beholds me shall
like me,
I think whoever I see must be happy.

“Song of the Open Road” (3 of 15) by Walt Whitman [w/ Audio]

You air that serves me with breath to speak!
You objects that call from diffusion my
meanings and give them shape!
You light that wraps me and all things in
delicate equable showers!
You paths worn in the irregular hollows by
the roadsides!
I believe you are latent with unseen
existences, you are so dear to me.

You flagg'd walks of the cities! you strong
curbs at the edges!
You ferries! you planks and posts of wharves!
you timber-lined sides! you distant ships!

You rows of houses! you window-pierc'd
façades! you roofs!
You porches and entrances! you copings and
iron guards!
You windows whose transparent shells
might expose so much!
You doors and ascending steps! you arches!
You gray stones of interminable pavements!
you trodden crossings!
From all that has touch'd you I believe you
have imparted to yourselves, and now
would impart the same secretly to me,
From the living and the dead you have
peopled your impassive surfaces, and the
spirits thereof would be evident and
amicable with me.

“Song of the Open Road” (2 of 15) by Walt Whitman [w/ Audio]

You road I enter upon and look around, I
believe you are not all that is here,
I believe that much unseen is also here.

Here the profound lesson of reception, nor
preference nor denial,
The black with his wooly head, the felon,
the diseas'd, the illiterate person, are not
denied;
The birth, the hasting after the physician,
the beggar's tramp, the drunkard's stagger,
the laughing party of mechanics,
The escaped youth, the rich person's
carriage, the fop, the eloping couple,

The early market-man, the hearse, the
moving of furniture into the town, the
return back from the town,
They pass, I also pass, any thing passes,
none can be interdicted,
None but are accepted, none but shall be
dear to me.

“Song of the Open Road” (1 of 15) by Walt Whitman [w/ Audio]

Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open 
road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading
wherever I choose.

Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself
am good-fortune,
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone
no more, need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints, libraries,
querulous criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road.

The earth, that is sufficient,
I do not want the constellations any nearer,
I know they are very well where they are,
I know they suffice for those who belong to
them.

(Still here I carry my old delicious burdens,
I carry them, men and women, I carry them
with me wherever I go,
I swear it is impossible for me to get rid of
them,
I am fill'd with them, and I will fill them in
return.)