Small the Theme of My Chant

Small the theme of my Chant, yet the greatest—namely, One's-SelfOne's-Self—a simple, separate person. That, for the use of the

      New World, I sing.

Man's physiology complete, from top to toe, I sing. Not physi-ognomyphysiognomy alone, nor brain alone, is worthy for the Muse;—I say the Form complete is worthier far. The Female equally with the Male, I sing.

Nor cease at the theme of One's-Self. I speak the word of the modern, the word En-Masse.

My Days I sing, and the Lands—with interstice I knew of hap-lesshapless War.

(O friend, whoe'er you are, at last arriving hither to commence,

      I feel through every leaf the pressure of your hand, which I return.

And thus upon our journey, footing the road, and more than once, and link'd together let us go.)