Song of Myself

You laggards there on guard! look to your arms!

In at the conquer'd doors they crowd! I am possess'd!

Embody all presences outlaw'd or suffering,

See myself in prison shaped like another man,

And feel the dull unintermitted pain,

For me the keepers of convicts shoulder their carbines and

keep watch,

It is I let out in the morning and barr'd at night.

Not a mutineer walks handcuff'd to jail but I am handcuff'd

to him and walk by his side,

(I am less the jolly one there, and more the silent one with

sweat on my twitching lips.)

Not a youngster is taken for larceny but I go up too, and am

tried and sentenced.

Not a cholera patient lies at the last gasp but I also lie at the

last gasp,

My face is ash-color'd, my sinews gnarl, away from me

people retreat.

Askers embody themselves in me and I am embodied in

them,

I project my hat, sit shame-faced, and beg.