Loafe with me on the grass — loose the stop from your throat; Not words, not music or rhyme I want — not custom or lecture, not even the best; Only t… - Walt Whitman

America must welcome all — -Chinese, Irish, German, pauper or not, criminal or not — -all, all, without exceptions: become an asylum for all who choose to come. We may have drifted away from this principle temporarily but time will bring us back. … America is not for special types, for the caste, but for the great mass of people — -the vast, surging, hopeful, army of workers. Dare we deny them a home — -close the doors in their face — — take possession of all and fence it in and then sit down satisfied with our system — -convinced that we have solved our problem? I for my part refuse to connect America with such a failure — -such a tragedy, for tragedy it would be.

O you youths, Western youths,
So impatient, full of action, full of manly pride and friendship,
Plain I see you Western youths, see you tramping with the foremost,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

Dazzling and tremendous how quick the sunrise
would kill me,
If I could not now and always send sunrise out of
me.
We also ascend dazzling and tremendous as the sun,
We found our own my soul in the calm and cool of
the daybreak.
My voice goes after what my eyes cannot reach,
With the twirl of my tongue I encompass worlds and
volumes of
worlds.
Speech is the twin of my vision.... it is unequal to
measure itself.
It provokes me forever,
It says sarcastically, Walt, you understand
enough.... why don’t
you let it out then?
Come now I will not be tantalized.... you conceive
too much of articulation.
Do you not know how the buds beneath are folded?
Waiting in gloom protected by frost,
The dirt receding before my prophetical screams,
I underlying causes to balance them at last,
My knowledge my live parts.... it keeping tally with
the
meaning of things,
Happiness.... which whoever hears me let him or
her set out in
search of this day.