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Song of the Open Road

Camerado, I give you my hand!
I give you my love more precious than money.
I give you myself before preaching or law;
will you give me yourself,
will you come travel with me?
Shall we stick by each other as long as we live?

Now I see the secret of the making of the best persons.
It is to grow to the open air and to eat and sleep with the earth

Listen! I will be honest with you,
I do not offer the old smooth prizes, but offer rough new prizes,
These are the days that must happen to you:
You shall not heap up what is call'd riches,
You shall scatter with lavish hand all that you earn or achieve,
You but arrive at the city to which you wer
e destin'd, you hardly
settle yourself to satisfaction before you are call'd by an
irresistible call to depart,
You shall be treated to the ironical smiles and mockings of those
who remain behind you,
What beckonings of love you receive you shall only answer with
passionate kisses of parting,
You shall not allow the hold of those who spread their reach'd hands
toward you.




















click here to check other Walt Withman's poem

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