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Walt Whitman - Whoever You are, Holding Me now in Hand.

WHOEVER you are, holding me now in hand, 
Without one thing, all will be useless, 
I give you fair warning, before you attempt me further, 
I am not what you supposed, but far different. 
Who is he that would become my follower?
Who would sign himself a candidate for my affections? 
The way is suspicious—the result uncertain, perhaps destructive; 
You would have to give up all else—I alone would expect to be your God, sole and
Your novitiate would even then be long and exhausting, 
The whole past theory of your life, and all conformity to the lives around you, would have
Therefore release me now, before troubling yourself any further—Let go your hand from my
Put me down, and depart on your way. 
Or else, by stealth, in some wood, for trial, 
Or back of a rock, in the open air, 
(For in any roof’d room of a house I emerge not—nor in company,
And in libraries I lie as one dumb, a gawk, or unborn, or dead,) 
But just possibly with you on a high hill—first watching lest any person, for miles
	approach unawares, 
Or possibly with you sailing at sea, or on the beach of the sea, or some quiet island, 
Here to put your lips upon mine I permit you, 
With the comrade’s long-dwelling kiss, or the new husband’s kiss,
For I am the new husband, and I am the comrade. 
Or, if you will, thrusting me beneath your clothing, 
Where I may feel the throbs of your heart, or rest upon your hip, 
Carry me when you go forth over land or sea; 
For thus, merely touching you, is enough—is best,
And thus, touching you, would I silently sleep and be carried eternally. 
But these leaves conning, you con at peril, 
For these leaves, and me, you will not understand, 
They will elude you at first, and still more afterward—I will certainly elude you, 
Even while you should think you had unquestionably caught me, behold!
Already you see I have escaped from you. 
For it is not for what I have put into it that I have written this book, 
Nor is it by reading it you will acquire it, 
Nor do those know me best who admire me, and vauntingly praise me, 
Nor will the candidates for my love, (unless at most a very few,) prove victorious,
Nor will my poems do good only—they will do just as much evil, perhaps more; 
For all is useless without that which you may guess at many times and not hit—that which I
Therefore release me, and depart on your way.

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Added: Feb 7 2004 | Viewed: 9152 times | Comments and analysis of Whoever You are, Holding Me now in Hand. by Walt Whitman Comments (3)

Whoever You are, Holding Me now in Hand. - Comments and Information

Poet: Walt Whitman
Poem: 3. Whoever You are, Holding Me now in Hand.
Volume: Leaves of Grass
- 3. Calamus
Year: Published/Written in 1900

Comment 3 of 3, added on December 20th, 2014 at 11:35 PM.

iB4ZAu Excellent read, I just passed this onto a friend who was doing some research on that. And he actually bought me lunch since I found it for him smile So let me rephrase that: Thanks for lunch!

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Comment 2 of 3, added on July 19th, 2014 at 5:17 AM.

dG24an Muchos Gracias for your blog. Great.

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Comment 1 of 3, added on September 21st, 2011 at 10:32 PM.

my favorite

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