store, or factory, These shows all near you by day and night--workman! whoever you are, your daily life! In that and them the heft of the heaviest--in that and them far more than you estimated, (and far less also,) In them realities for you and me, in them poems for you and me, In them, not yourself-you and your soul enclose all things, regardless of estimation, In them the development good--in them all themes, hints, possibilities. I do not affirm that what you see beyond is futile, I do not advise you to stop, I do not say leadings you thought great are not great, But I say that none lead to greater than these lead to. 6 Will you seek afar off? you surely come back at last, In things best known to you finding the best, or as good as the best, In folks nearest to you finding the sweetest, strongest, lovingest, Happiness, knowledge, not in another place but this place, not for another hour but this hour, Man in the first you see or touch, always in friend, brother, nighest neighbor--woman in mother, sister, wife, The popular tastes and employments taking precedence in poems or anywhere, You workwomen and workmen of these States having your own divine and strong life, And all else giving place to men and women like you. When the psalm sings instead of the singer, When the script preaches instead of the preacher, When the pulpit descends and goes instead of the carver that carved the supporting desk, When I can touch the body of books by night or by day, and when they touch my body back again, When a university course convinces like a slumbering woman and child convince, When the minted gold in the vault smiles like the night-watchman’s daughter, When warrantee deeds loafe in chairs opposite and are my friendly companions, I intend to reach them my hand, and make as much of them as I do of men and women like you. BOOK XVI A Song of the Rolling Earth 1 A song of the rolling earth, and of words according, Were you thinking that those were the words, those upright lines? those curves, angles, dots? No, those are not the words, the substantial words are in the ground and sea, They are in the air, they are in you. Were you thinking that those were the words, those delicious sounds out of your friends’ mouths? No, the real words are more delicious than they. Human bodies are words, myriads of words, (In the best poems re-appears the body, man’s or woman’s, well-shaped, natural, gay, Every part able, active, receptive, without shame or the need of shame.) Air, soil, water, fire--those are words, I myself am a word with them--my qualities interpenetrate with theirs--my name is nothing to them, Though it were told in the three thousand languages, what would air, soil, water, fire, know of my name?