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Why are there trees I never walk under but large and melodious thoughts descend upon me?

Walt Whitman

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Walt Whitman
Age: 72 †
Born: 1819
Born: May 31
Died: 1892
Died: March 26
Editor
Essayist
Journalist
Novelist
Nurse
Poet
Writer
West Hills
New York
Walter Whitman
Never
Trees
Large
Walking
Thoughts
Walk
Tree
Walks
Melodious
Upon
Descend

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I am satisfied ... I see, dance, laugh, sing.
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There can be no theory of any account unless it corroborate with the theory of the earth.
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A Song of the good green grass! A song no more of the city streets A song of farms - a song of the soil of fields. A song with the smell of sun-dried hay, where the nimble pitchers handle the pitch-fork A song tasting of new wheat, and of fresh-husk'd maize.
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An electric chain seems to vibrate, as it were, between our brain and him or her preserved there [in a Daguerreotype] so well by the limner's cunning. Time, space, both are annihilated, and we identify the semblance with the reality.
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This face is a dog's snout sniffing for garbage, snakes nest in that mouth, I hear the sibilant threat.
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I give you my hand, I give you my love more precious than money, I give you myself before preaching or law Will you give me yourself?
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In the confusion we stay with each other, happy to be together, speaking without uttering a single word.
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The jour printer with gray head and gaunt jaws works at his case, He turns his quid of tobacco, while his eyes blur with the manuscript.
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Praised be the fathomless universe, for life and joy, and for objects and knowledge curious.
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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.
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O the joy of my spirit - it is uncaged - it darts like lightning!
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I say the whole earth and all the stars in the sky are for religion's sake.
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