Song
of the Open Road
by
Walt Whitman
Afoot
and light-hearted, I take to the open road, healthy, free,
the world before me. Henceforth I ask not good fortune, I
myself am good fortune; Strong and content, I travel the
open road.
I
inhale great draughts of space; the east and the west are
mine, and the north and the south are mine. All seems
beautiful to me; I can repeat over to men and women, You
have done such good to me, I would do the same to you.
Whoever
you are, come travel with me!
However
sweet these laid-up stores, however convenient this
dwelling, we cannot remain here. However sheltered this
port, and however calm these waters, we must not anchor
here.
Together!
The
inducements shall be greater; we will sail pathless and wild
seas; we will go where winds blow, waves dash, and the
Yankee clipper speeds by under full sail.
Forward!
After the great Companions! And to belong to them! They too
are on the road! Onward! To that which is endless, as it was
beginningless, to undergo much, tramps of days, rests of
nights, to see nothing anywhere but that you may reach it
and pass it. To look up or down no road but it stretches and
waits for you. To know the universe itself as a road - as
many roads - as roads for traveling souls.
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