Song of the Open Road

AFOOT and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.

Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need
     nothing,
Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road.

The earth, that is sufficient,
I do not want the constellations any nearer,
I know they are very well where they are,
I know they suffice for those who belong to them.

(Still here I carry my old delicious burdens,
I carry them, men and women, I carry them with me
     wherever I go,

I swear it is impossible for me to get rid of them,
I am fill'd with them; and I will fill them in return.)

You road I enter upon and look around, I believe you are
     not all that is here,
I believe that much unseen is also here.

Here the profound lesson of reception, nor preference nor
     denial,
The black with his woolly head, the felon, the diseas'd, the
     illiterate person, are not denied;
The birth, the hasting after the physician, the beggar's tramp,
     the drunkard's stagger, the laughing party of mechanics,
The escaped youth, the rich person's carriage, the fop, the
     eloping couple,
The early market-man, the hearse, the moving of furniture
     into the town, the return back from the town,
They pass, I also pass, any thing passes, none can be
     interdicted,
None but are accepted, none but shall be dear to me.

You air that serves me with breath to speak!
You objects that call from diffusion my meanings and give
     them shape!
You light that wraps me and all things in delicate equable
     showers!
You paths worn in the irregular hollows by the roadsides!
I believe you are latent with unseen existences, you are so
     dear to me.

You flagg'd walks of the cities! you strong curbs at the edges!
You ferries! you planks and posts of wharves! you timberlined
     sides! you distant ships!
You rows of houses! you window-pierc'd façades! you roofs!
You porches and entrances! you copings and iron guards!
You windows whose transparent shells might expose so much!

You doors and ascending steps! you arches!
You gray stones of interminable pavements! you trodden
     crossings!
From all that has touch'd you I believe you have imparted to
     yourselves, and now would impart the same secretly to me,
From the living and the dead you have peopled your impassive
     surfaces, and the spirits thereof would be evident and
     amicable with me.

The earth expanding right hand and left hand,
The picture alive, every part in its best light,
The music falling in where it is wanted, and stopping where
     it is not wanted,
The cheerful voice of the public road, the gay fresh sentiment
     of the road.

O highway I travel, do you say to me Do not leave me?
Do you say Venture not — if you leave me you are lost?
Do you say I am already prepared, I am well-beaten and
     undenied, adhere to me?