I survey the universe from my standpoint—as everyone is to himself the central point of the world,
But I say nothing of myself which I do not equally say of all others, men and women;
I do not doubt that there is far more in myself than I have supposed, and more in all men and women,
I say that every man is great to himself and every woman to herself,
I say the same word for every man and woman alive.

I do not separate the learned from the unlearned, the white from the black, or the native from the immigrant just landed at the wharf. Everyone appears excellent to me, and every male and female glorious.
So I celebrate myself, and sing myself, to celebrate every man and woman, all just as fathomless as myself. I celebrate myself to celebrate you—wonderful how I celebrate you and myself.

Underneath the lessons of things, spirits, nature, governments, ownerships, I swear I perceive other lessons,
Underneath all to me is myself, to you yourself, (the same monotonous old song,)
And what I assume you shall assume—
I give nothing to anyone except I give the like carefully to you.

I know perfectly well my own egotism,
And would fetch you whoever you are flush with myself,
If you see a good deal remarkable in me,
I see just as much, perhaps more, remarkable in you.
Great are yourself and myself,
The very sun swings itself and its system of planets around us,
Its sun, and its again, all swing around us.

Whoever you are, I fear you are walking the walks of dreams,
You have not known what you are, you have slumber’d upon yourself all your life,
Your eyelids have been the same as closed most of the time,
What you have done returns already in mockeries—
Your thrift, knowledge, prayers, if they do not return in mockeries, what is their return?

The mockeries are not you,
Underneath them and within them I see you lurk—
Undrape! you are not guilty to me, nor stale nor discarded,
I see through the broadcloth and gingham whether or no.
Silence, the desk, the night, the accustom’d routine,
If these conceal you from others or from yourself, they do not conceal you from me,
Even now your features, joys, speech, house, trade, manners, troubles, follies, costume, crimes, dissipate away from you,
What best I see in you—your true soul and body—appear before me,
They stand forth out of affairs, out of work, the house, buying, selling, eating, drinking, suffering, dying,
Of your soul I say truths to harmonize if anything can harmonize you.

None has understood you, but I understand you,
None has done justice to you, you have not done justice to yourself,
None but has found you imperfect, I only find no imperfection in you;
There is no imperfection in any man or woman,
Everyone appears excellent to me, every male and female glorious.
The most perfect wonders of the earth are not rare and distant but present with every person, you as much as any,
I own publicly who you are, if nobody else owns, and​ see and hear you, and what you give and take;
What is there you cannot give and take?

O I have been dilatory and dumb,
I should have made my way straight to you long ago,
I should have blabb’d nothing but you,
I should have chanted nothing but you,
I will leave all and come and make the hymns of you.

O I could sing such grandeurs and glories about you!
I sing the songs of the glory of none, not God, sooner than I sing the songs of the glory of you—
There is no endowment in man or woman that is not tallied in you,
There is no virtue, no beauty in man or woman, but as good is in you,
No pluck, no endurance in others, but as good is in you,
No pleasure waiting for others, but an equal pleasure waits for you.

Yourself! yourself! yourself, for ever and ever!
The whole theory of the universe is directed unerringly to one single individual—namely to you!
You fathomless, more than all outside yourself, however vast and great,
All serves, helps—but in the centre of all, absorbing all, giving, for your purpose, the only meaning and vitality to all, master or mistress of all, under the law, stands yourself.

Whoever you are! motion and reflection are especially for you,
You are he or she for whom the sun and moon hang in the sky,
You are he or she for whom the earth is solid and liquid,
The divine ship sails the divine sea for you.

Each man to himself and each woman to herself, is the word of the past and present—
What a history is folded, folded inward and inward again, in the single word I.
The past entire, with all its heroes, histories, arts, experiments,
Its store of songs, inventions, voyages, teachers, books,
Garner’d for today and thee—the heirdom all converged in thee! 

To think of it!
To think that the sun rose in the east—that men and women were flexible, real, alive—that everything was alive,
To think that you and I did not see, feel, think, nor bear our part,
To think that we are now here and bear our part.
Garner’d clusters of ages that men and women like us grew up and travel’d their course and pass’d on—
We are just as good and bad as the oldest and youngest or any,
What the best and worst did, we could do,
What they felt, do not we feel it in ourselves?
What they wished, do we not wish the same?

From precedents you come—to futurity you go;
All is eligible to all,
All is for individuals; all is for you,
I, you, anyone eligible to the conditions or attributes or advantages of any being.

But it is not to diffuse you that you were born of your mother and father, it is to identify you,
It is not that you should be undecided, but that you should be decided.
You are not thrown to the winds,
The threads that were spun are gather’d, the weft crosses the warp, the pattern is systematic,
Day and night the weft, the warp, incessant weave, tires not,
Old or young, male or female, rude, low, rejected by the rest, whatever you are promulges itself,
Through birth, life, death, burial, the means are provided, nothing is scanted,
Now there shall be a man cohered out of tumult and chaos.

If you are located in yourself you are well located,
You gather certainly and safely around yourself,
You can never be dislodged or moved thence,
You are henceforth secure, whatever comes or goes.
The guest that was coming, he waited long, he is now housed,
He is one of those who are beautiful and happy,
He is one of those that to look upon and be with is enough.

You are here—life exists and identity,
The powerful play goes on—
That great play on history’s stage eterne,
That lurid, partial act of war and peace, of old and new contending,
Fought out through wrath, fears, dark dismays, and many a long suspense—
And you may contribute a verse.
Playing the part that still looks back on the actor or actress,
The role that is what we make it, as great as we like,
(As the chief histrion down to the footlights walks in some great scene, Dominating the rest,)
Or as small as we like—or both great and small.
No life ever lived, even the most uneventful, but, probed to its centre, would be found in itself as subtle a drama as any that poets have ever sung, or playwrights fabled.

There was a small but well-appointed amateur theatre and I was myself a member for some time, and acted parts in it several times. It was full of fun and enjoyment.
Perhaps it too was a lesson, or help’d that way:
The acting is to the actor and actress, not to the audience,
And the whole matter of life, the whole story, is to find what to be—then, adjustment!

But remember:
Behind all this show of ostensible life—talk, amusements, dress, money, politics, etc.—stands the real life of every man and woman,
Of those through with their parts and those waiting to commence,
Of you who hear me now.

I say a man is to vindicate himself above all things and a woman above all things;
What could we ever do if we didn’t believe in ourselves?
Whoever you are! claim your own at any hazard!
Go, dear friend, if need be give up all else,
And commence today to inure yourself to pluck, reality, self-esteem, definiteness, elevatedness,
Rest not till you rivet and publish yourself of your own personality,
To confront with your personality all the other personalities of the earth.

NEXT: CONFORMITY AND THE NONCONFORMIST

The texts in this anthology should NOT be cited as direct quotations from Whitman. If you want to quote from this site for something you are writing or posting, please read this first (click here).