O, to be a ruler of life — not a slave, To meet life as a powerful conqueror, No fumes — no ennui — no more complaints or scornful criticisms. O me r… - Walt Whitman

Oh while I live, to be the ruler of life, not a slave, to meet life as a powerful conqueror, and nothing exterior to me will ever take command of me

Something long preparing and formless is arrived and formed in you,
You are henceforth secure, whatever comes or goes.
The threads that were spun are gathered, the weft crosses the warp, the
pattern is systematic.
The preparations have every one been justified, The orchestra have sufficiently tuned their instruments — the baton has given the signal. The guest that was coming — he waited long, for reasons — he is now housed; He is one of those who are beautiful and happy — he is one of those that to look upon and be with is enough.

WHAT am I, after all, but a child, pleas’d with the sound of my own name? repeating it over and over;
I stand apart to hear — it never tires me.
To you, your name also;
Did you think there was nothing but two or three pronunciations in the sound of your name?

Walt Whitman, an American, one of the roughs, a kosmos, / Disorderly fleshy and sensual....eating drinking and breeding, / No sentimentalist....no stander above men and women or apart / from them....no more modest than immodest.