O public road, I say back I am not afraid to leave you, yet I
You express me better than I can
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.
From this hour I ordain myself loos'd of limits and
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
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
Whoever accepts me he or she shall be blessed and shall bless
Now if a thousand perfect men were to appear it would not
Now if a thousand beautiful forms
of women appear'd it
would not astonish me.
Now I see the secret of the making of the best persons,
It is to grow in the open air and to eat and sleep
Here a great personal deed has room,
(Such a deed seizes upon the hearts of the whole race of men,
effusion of strength and will overwhelms law and mocks
all authority and all argument against it.)
Here is the test of wisdom,
Wisdom is not finally tested in schools,
Wisdom cannot be pass'd from one
having it to another not
Wisdom is of the soul, is not susceptible of proof, is its own
Applies to all stages and objects and
qualities and is content,
Is the certainty of the reality and immortality of things, and
the excellence of
Something there is in the float of the sight of things that
provokes it out of the soul.
Now I re-examine philosophies and religions,
They may prove well in lecture-rooms, yet not prove at all
under the spacious clouds and along the landscape and
Here is realization,
Here is a man tallied he realizes here what he has in him,
The past, the future,
majesty, love if they are vacant of you,
you are vacant of them.
Only the kernel of every object nourishes;
Where is he who tears off the husks for you and me?
he that undoes stratagems and envelopes for you
Here is adhesiveness, it is not previously fashion'd, it is
Do you know what it is as you pass to
be loved by strangers?
Do you know the talk of those turning eye-balls?