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Long enough have you dream'd contemptible dreams, Now I wash the gum from your eyes, You must habit yourself to the dazzle of the light and of every moment of your life

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
Dream
Dazzle
Light
Wash
Enough
Habit
Must
Dreams
Every
Eyes
Long
Eye
Life
Moment
Contemptible
Moments
Gum

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The strongest and sweetest songs yet remain to be sung.
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Happiness, not in another place but this place...not for another hour, but this hour.
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Peace is always beautiful.
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The wild gander leads his flock through the cool night, Ya-honk! he says, and sounds it down to me like an invitation: The pert may suppose it meaningless, but I listen closer, I find its purpose and place up there toward the November sky.
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All the things of the universe are perfect miracles, each as profound as any.
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Long and long has the grass been growing, Long and long has the rain been falling, Long has the globe been rolling round.
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The President eats dirt and excrement for his daily meals, likes it and tries to force it on The States.
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What stays with you latest and deepest? of curious panics, of hard-fought engagements or sieges tremendous what deepest remains?
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More and more too, the old name absorbs into me. Mannahatta, 'the place encircled by many swift tides and sparkling waters.' How fit a name for America's great democratic island city! The word itself, how beautiful! how aboriginal! how it seems to rise with tall spires, glistening in sunshine, with such New World atmosphere, vista and action!
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Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes.
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Manhattan streets with their powerful throbs, with beating drums as now, The endless and noisy chorus, the rustle and clank of muskets, (even the sight of the wounded,) Manhattan crowds, with their turbulent musical chorus! Manhattan faces and eyes forever for me.
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You will hardly know who I am or what I mean, But I shall be good health to you nevertheless, And filter and fibre your blood. Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged, Missing me one place search another, I stop somewhere waiting for you.
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I am not contain'd between my hat and boots.
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But the people are ungrammatical, untidy, and their sins gaunt and ill-bred.
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