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To a Common Prostitute.

 

1.Be composed—be at ease with me—I am Walt
Whitman, liberal and lusty as Nature,
Not till the sun excludes you, do I exclude you,
Not till the waters refuse to glisten for you, and the
leaves to rustle for you, do my words refuse to
glisten and rustle for you.

2.My girl, I appoint with you an appointment—and I
charge you that you make preparation to be
worthy to meet me,
And I charge you that you be patient and perfect till
I come.

3.Till then, I salute you with a significant look, that
you do not forget me.

To Rich Givers.

What you give me, I cheerfully accept,
A little sustenance, a hut and garden, a little money
—these as I rendezvous with my poems,
A traveller's lodging and breakfast as I journey
through The States—Why should I be ashamed
to own such gifts? Why to advertise for them?
For I myself am not one who bestows nothing upon
man and woman,
For I know that what I bestow upon any man or
woman is no less than the entrance to all the
gifts of the universe.