Song of Myself
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“I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their
parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
Creeds and schools in abeyance,
Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten,
I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard,
Nature without check with original energy. ”
While these lyrics are not my own, I can definitely subscribe to what the author expresses throughout: I like to think this passage from Walt Whitman’s “Song of Myself” revolves around the elusive concept (yet persistent) which is often referred to as universal love. The idealistic concept that we might all be able to get along, someday. Who knows…
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