|   |
A learner with the simplest, a teacher of the thoughtfullest, A novice beginning yet experient of myriads of seasons, Of every hue and caste am I, of every rank and religion, A farmer, mechanic, artist, gentleman, sailor, quaker, Prisoner, fancy-man, rowdy, lawyer, physician, priest.I resist any thing better than my own diversity, Breathe the air but leave plenty after me, And am not stuck up, and am in my place. These are really the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands, they are not original with me, If they are not yours as much as mine they are nothing, or next to nothing, If they are not the riddle and the untying of the riddle they are nothing, If they are not just as close as they are distant they are nothing. This is the grass that grows wherever the land is and the water is, This the common air that bathes the globe. |
  |
|   |
Music by Fred Hersch Copyright Palmetto Records 2005 Track 6 2:16 Song of Myself Sung by Kurt Elling |
  |
Words by Walt Whitman, from "Leaves of Grass", published by The Modern Library, Copyright 1950 by Random House, Inc. Page 37 |