The efflux of the soul is happiness, here is happiness, I think it pervades the open air, waiting at all times, Now it flows unto us, we are rightly … - Walt Whitman

The efflux of the soul is happiness, here is happiness,
I think it pervades the open air, waiting at all times,
Now it flows unto us, we are rightly charged.

I am he that walks with the tender and growing night,
I call to the earth and sea half-held by the night.

Press close bare-bosom’d night — press close magnetic nourishing night!
Night of south winds — night of the large few stars!
Still nodding night — mad naked summer night. — Walt Whitman, from “Song of Myself, 21,” Leaves of Grass: The Deathbed Edition (BOMC, 1992)

while they
discuss I am silent, and go bathe and admire myself.

Welcome is every organ and attribute of me, and of
any man
hearty and clean,
Not an inch nor a particle of an inch is vile, and
none shall be
less familiar than the rest.

I exist as I am, that is enough, If no other in the world be aware I sit content, And if each and all be aware I sit content.