From Leaves of Grass
, by Walt Whitman
One hour to madness
! O furious
! O confine me not!
(What is this that frees me so in storms?
What do my shouts amid lightning
s and raging winds mean?)
O to drink the mystic
deliria deeper than any other man!
and tender achings! (I bequeath them to you, my children,
I tell them to you, for reasons, O bridegroom
O to be yielded to you whoever you are, and you to be yielded to me in defiance
of the world!
O to return to Paradise
! O bashful and feminine!
O to draw you to me, to plant on you for the first time the lips
of a determin'd man.
O the puzzle, the thrice-tied knot
, the deep and dark pool, all untied and illumin'd!
O to speed where there is space enough and air enough at last!
To be absolv'd from previous ties and conventions, I from mine and you from yours!
To find a new unthought-of nonchalance with the best of Nature!
To have the gag remov'd from one's mouth!
To have the feeling to-day or any day I am sufficient as I am.
O something unprov'd! something in a trance
To escape utterly from others' anchors and holds!
To drive free! to love free
! to dash reckless and dangerous!
To court destruction
with taunts, with invitations!
To ascend, to leap to the heavens of the love indicated to me!
To rise thither with my inebriate
To be lost if it must be so!
To feed the remainder of life with one hour
of fulness and freedom!
With one brief hour of madness and joy.