But the greatest of all joys for Whitman is the joy of being loved, in body and in spirit:
I know …
That all the men ever born are also my brothers, and the women my sisters and lovers,
And that a kelson of the creation is love.[1]
After studying all philosophers and all prophets he discovers that the basis of all metaphysics is love:
The dear love of man for his comrade, the attraction of friend to friend,
Of the well-married husband and wife, of children and parents,
Of city for city and land for land.[2]
He thinks of all the men scattered in far away lands whom he might love:
And it seems to me if I could know those men I should become attached to them as I do to men in my own lands,
I know we should be brethren and lovers,
I know I should be happy with them.[3]
But Whitman’s song would not be truly universal if he saw only the beauty and the goodness of the world. I have already said, I believe, that his optimism is by no means that of Dr. Pangloss. He is not unaware of evil; he transcends it. Sometimes, indeed, he cannot rise above it in full
