This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers,ĭarker than the colorless beards of old men,ĭark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths. It may be you are from old people, or from offspring taken soon It may be if I had known them I would have loved them, It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men, Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same, IĪnd now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves. Growing among black folks as among white, Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of theĪnd it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones, Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,Ī scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt,īearing the owner’s name someway in the corners, that we may I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any In this exquisite reading from New York’s 92Y, the great James Earl Jones brings his formidable dramatic prowess to sections 6, 7, 17, 18, and 19, breathing explosive new life into Whitman’s timeless verses:Ī child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands Indeed, it was “Song of Myself” that best encapsulated the heart of Whitman’s poetic vision and his conviction that the poet and the public are inextricably, symbolically linked. Illustration from Whitman Illuminated: Song of Myself by Allen Crawford

The proof of a poet is that his country absorbs him as affectionately as he has absorbed it. He wrote in the preface to the 1855 edition, which he self-published in a limited edition of about 800 copies and which included the acclaimed fifty-two-section poem “Song of Myself”: Walt Whitman (May 31, 1819–March 26, 1892) is widely celebrated as the father of free verse, his 1855 poetry collection Leaves of Grass ( public library | public domain) enduring as one of the most influential works in the American literary canon.

Leaves of grass song of myself