RHAPSODIZES ABOUT IT

I sing the conscience triumphant,
I celebrate the body invulnerable.
The firm tread, the square jaw, the unflinching eye, the resolute voice,
Mind equal with matter, I chant.
I see the Roman singer standing erect,
His figure rises
Masculine, haughty, naïf;
He confronts and answers me.
Me, spontaneous, imperturbe,
Loafing, swaggering, at ease with Nature,
Passive, receptive, gross, immoderate, fit,
Broad-shouldered and ripe, a good feeder, weight one hundred and eighty-seven pounds, warm-blooded, forty-two inches around the breast and back, voluptuous, combative, vulgar,
Bearded, continental, prophetic;
Understander of beasts and scholars, meeting children and Presidents on equal terms.
I hail him with the others.
He, walking about unarmed and care-free,
Pleased with all countries, climates, conditions,
Pleased with bleak Caucasus, sultry Syrtes, the woods of Daunia,
Pleased with all seasons, fortunes, women, the native as well as the foreign;
Fearing no thing, hating no thing,
Upright in life, of conduct clean;
A lover, caresser of life, prodigal, inclusive,
Him I hail without effuse or argument.
I accept him, do not scrape or salaam,
Knowing him to be made of the right stuff,
No perfumed dilettante, no dainty affetuoso,
But a man,
Upright, solemn, desperate, yearning, puzzled, turbulent, sound,
Loved by men, misunderstood by men,
Going on, fulfilling the hopes of a great rapport.
Libertad!—the divine average!—the rich mélange!—
On the wasted plain, the dark-lipped sea, the hottest noon, the bitterest twelfth-month
Solitary, singing, I strike up and declare for these.