Listen! I will be honest with you,
I do not offer the old smooth prizes, but offer rough new prizes,
These are the days that must happen to you:

You shall not heap up what is call'd riches,
You shall scatter with lavish hand all that you earn or achieve,
You but arrive at the city to which you were destin'd, you
     hardly settle yourself to satisfaction before you are
     call'd by an irresistible call to depart,
You shall be treated to the ironical smiles and mockings of
     those who remain behind you,
What beckonings of love you receive you shall only answer
     with passionate kisses of parting,
You shall not allow the hold of those who spread their
     reach'd hands toward you.

Allons! after the great Companions, and to belong to them!
They too are on the road — they are the swift and majestic
     men — they are the greatest women,
Enjoyers of calms of seas and storms of seas,
Sailors of many a ship, walkers of many a mile of land,
Habituès of many distant countries, habituès of
     far-distant dwellings,
Trusters of men and women, observers of cities, solitary
     toilers,
Pausers and contemplators of tufts, blossoms, shells of the
     shore,
Dancers at wedding-dances, kissers of brides, tender helpers of
     children, bearers of children,
Soldiers of revolts, standers by gaping graves, lowerers-down
     of coffins,
Journeyers over consecutive seasons, over the years, the
     curious years each emerging from that which proceded it,
Journeyers as with companions, namely their own diverse
     phases,
Forth-steppers from the latent unrealized baby-days,
Journeyers gayly with their own youth, journeyers with their
     bearded and well-grain'd manhood,
Journeyers with their womanhood, ample, unsurpass'd,
     content,
Journeyers with their own sublime old age of manhood or
     womanhood,

Old age, calm, expanded, broad with the haughty breadth of
     the universe,
Old age, flowing free with the delicious near-by freedom of
     death.

Allons! to that which is endless as it was beginningless,
To undergo much, tramps of days, rests of nights,
To merge all in the travel they tend to, and the days and
     nights they tend to,
Again to merge them in the start of superior journeys,
To see nothing anywhere but what you may reach it and pass
     it,
To conceive no time, however distant, but what you may
     reach it and pass it,
To look up or down no road but it stretches and waits for
     you, however long but it stretches and waits for you,
To see no being, not God's or any, but you also go thither,
To see no possession but you may possess it, enjoying all
     without labor or purchase, abstracting the feast yet not
     abstracting one particle of it,
To take the best of the farmer's farm and the rich man's
     elegant villa, and the chaste blessings of the well-married
     couple, and the fruits of orchards and flowers of gardens,
To take to your use out of the compact cities as you pass
     through,
To carry buildings and streets with you afterward wherever you go,
To gather the minds of men out of their brains as you
     encounter them, to gather the love out of their hearts,
To take your lovers on the road with you, for all that you
     leave them behind you,
To know the universe itself as a road, as many roads, as roads
     for traveling souls.

All parts away for the progress of souls,
All religion, all solid things, arts, governments — all that was
     or is apparent upon this globe or any globe, falls into
     niches and corners before the procession of souls along
     the grand roads of the universe.

Of the progress of the souls of men and women along the
     grand roads of the universe, all other progress is the
     needed emblem and sustenance.

Forever alive, forever forward,
Stately, solemn, sad, withdrawn, baffled, mad, turbulent,
     feeble, dissatisfied,
Desperate, proud, fond, sick, accepted by men, rejected by
     men,
They go! they go! I know that they go, but I know not where
     they go,
But I know that they go toward the best — toward
     something great.