Poetry  |  Walt Whitman  |  Leaves of Grass  |  Salut Au Monde!

Leaves of Grass — Salut Au Monde! (Part 5 of 5)

You vapors, I think I have risen with you, moved away
     to distant continents, and fallen down there, for reasons,
I think I have blown with you you winds;
You waters I have finger'd every shore with you,
I have run through what any river or strait of the globe has
     run through,

I have taken my stand on the bases of peninsulas and on the
     high embedded rocks, to cry thence:

Salut au monde!
What cities the light or warmth penetrates I penetrate those
     cities myself,
All islands to which birds wing their way I wing my way
     myself.

Toward you all, in America's name,
I raise high the perpendicular hand, I make the signal,
To remain after me in sight forever,
For all the haunts and homes of men.

1856 1881