Have you heard that it was good to gain the day?
It's a Walt Whitman kind of day today. More precisely, it's a "Song Of Myself 18 & 19" kind of day: a day when we can, and should, forgive ourselves our own failures, real or imagined, and take our deserved place among the multitudes.
18
With music strong I come--with my cornets and my drums,
I play not marches for accepted victors only--I play great marches for conquer'd and slain persons.
Have you heard that it was good to gain the day?
I also say it is good to fall--battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won.
I beat and pound for the dead;
I blow through my embouchures my loudest and gayest for them.
Vivas to those who have fail'd!
And to those whose war-vessels sank in the sea!
And to those themselves who sank in the sea! And to all generals that lost engagements! and all overcome heroes!
And the numberless unknown heroes, equal to the greatest heroes known.
19
This is the meal equally set--this is the meat for natural hunger;
It is for the wicked just the same as the righteous--I make appointments with all;
I will not have a single person slighted or left away;
The kept-woman, sponger, thief, are hereby invited;
The heavy-lipp'd slave is invited--the venerealee is invited:
There shall be no difference between them and the rest.
This is the press of a bashful hand--this is the float and odor of hair;
This is the touch of my lips to yours--this is the murmur of yearning;
This is the far-off depth and height reflecting my own face;
This is the thoughtful merge of myself, and the outlet again.
Do you guess I have some intricate purpose?
Well, I have--for the Fourth-month showers have, and the mica on the side of a rock has.
Do you take it I would astonish?
Does the daylight astonish? Does the early redstart, twittering through the woods?
Do I astonish more than they?
This hour I tell things in confidence;
I might not tell everybody, but I will tell you.
18
With music strong I come--with my cornets and my drums,
I play not marches for accepted victors only--I play great marches for conquer'd and slain persons.
Have you heard that it was good to gain the day?
I also say it is good to fall--battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won.
I beat and pound for the dead;
I blow through my embouchures my loudest and gayest for them.
Vivas to those who have fail'd!
And to those whose war-vessels sank in the sea!
And to those themselves who sank in the sea! And to all generals that lost engagements! and all overcome heroes!
And the numberless unknown heroes, equal to the greatest heroes known.
19
This is the meal equally set--this is the meat for natural hunger;
It is for the wicked just the same as the righteous--I make appointments with all;
I will not have a single person slighted or left away;
The kept-woman, sponger, thief, are hereby invited;
The heavy-lipp'd slave is invited--the venerealee is invited:
There shall be no difference between them and the rest.
This is the press of a bashful hand--this is the float and odor of hair;
This is the touch of my lips to yours--this is the murmur of yearning;
This is the far-off depth and height reflecting my own face;
This is the thoughtful merge of myself, and the outlet again.
Do you guess I have some intricate purpose?
Well, I have--for the Fourth-month showers have, and the mica on the side of a rock has.
Do you take it I would astonish?
Does the daylight astonish? Does the early redstart, twittering through the woods?
Do I astonish more than they?
This hour I tell things in confidence;
I might not tell everybody, but I will tell you.