O the gleesome saunter over fields and hillsides! The leaves and flowers of the commonest weeds, the moist fresh stillness of the woods, The exquisite smell of the earth at daybreak, and all through the forenoon. [ . . . ] O the mother's joys! The watching, the endurance, the precious love, the anguish, the patiently yielded life. [ . . . ] O the pleasure with trees! The orchard—the forest—the oak, cedar, pine, pekan-tree, The honey-locust, black-walnut, cottonwood, and magnolia. [ . . . ] O to realize space! The plenteousness of all—that there are no bounds; To emerge, and be of the sky—of the sun and moon, and the flying clouds, as one with them. [ . . . ] O, while I live, to be the ruler of life—not a slave, To meet life as a powerful conqueror, No fumes—no ennui—no more complaints or scornful criticisms. [ . . . ] O joy of suffering! To struggle against great odds! to meet enemies undaunted! To be entirely alone with them! to find how much one can stand! To look strife, torture, prison, popular odium, death, face to face! To mount the scaffold! to advance to the muzzles of guns with perfect nonchalance! To be indeed a God! [ . . . ] O to have my life henceforth a poem of new joys! To dance, clap hands, exult, shout, skip, leap, roll on, float on! To be a sailor of the world, bound for all ports, A ship itself, (see indeed these sails I spread to the sun and air,) A swift and swelling ship, full of rich words—full of joys.
Poetry by Walt Whitman, excerpts of “A Song of Joys”, from Leaves of Grass (1855)