Democracy! near at hand to you a throat is now inflating itself and

joyfully singing.

Ma femme! for the brood beyond us and of us,

For those who belong here and those to come,

I exultant to be ready for them will now shake out carols stronger

and haughtier than have ever yet been heard upon earth.

I will make the songs of passion to give them their way,

And your songs outlaw'd offenders, for I scan you with kindred eyes,

and carry you with me the same as any.

I will make the true poem of riches,

To earn for the body and the mind whatever adheres and goes forward

and is not dropt by death;

I will effuse egotism and show it underlying all, and I will be the

bard of personality,

And I will show of male and female that either is but the equal of

the other,

And sexual organs and acts! do you concentrate in me, for I am determin'd

to tell you with courageous clear voice to prove you illustrious,

And I will show that there is no imperfection in the present, and

can be none in the future,

And I will show that whatever happens to anybody it may be turn'd to

beautiful results,

And I will show that nothing can happen more beautiful than death,

And I will thread a thread through my poems that time and events are

compact,

And that all the things of the universe are perfect miracles, each

as profound as any.

I will not make poems with reference to parts,

But I will make poems, songs, thoughts, with reference to ensemble,

And I will not sing with reference to a day, but with reference to

all days,

And I will not make a poem nor the least part of a poem but has

reference to the soul,

Because having look'd at the objects of the universe, I find there

is no one nor any particle of one but has reference to the soul.