What is the speaker suggesting in the lines below from Walt Whitman's poem "Song of Myself"?

Answer 1

That his body dissolves into the air and water

Answer 2

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1 1I celebrate myself, and sing myself, 2And what I assume you shall assume, 3For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you. 4I loafe and invite my soul, 5I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass. 6My tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd from this soil, this air, 7Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same, 8I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin, 9Hoping to cease not till death. 10Creeds and schools in abeyance, 11Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten, 12I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard, 13Nature without check with original energy.

2 14Houses and rooms are full of perfumes, the shelves are crowded with perfumes, 15I breathe the fragrance myself and know it and like it, 16The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let it. 17The atmosphere is not a perfume, it has no taste of the distillation, it is odorless, 18It is for my mouth forever, I am in love with it, 19I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked, 20I am mad for it to be in contact with me. 21The smoke of my own breath, 22Echoes, ripples, buzz'd whispers, love-root, silk-thread, crotch and vine, 23My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the passing of blood and air through my lungs, 24The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore and dark-color'd sea-rocks, and of hay in the barn, 25The sound of the belch'd words of my voice loos'd to the eddies of the wind, 26A few light kisses, a few embraces, a reaching around of arms, 27The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag, 28The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields and hill-sides, 29The feeling of health, the full-noon trill, the song of me rising from bed and meeting the sun. 30Have you reckon'd a thousand acres much? have you reckon'd the earth much? 31Have you practis'd so long to learn to read? 32Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems? 33Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems, 34You shall possess the good of the earth and sun, (there are millions of suns left,) 35You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books, 36You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me, 37You shall listen to all sides and filter them from your self.

3 38I have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the beginning and the end, 39But I do not talk of the beginning or the end. 40There was never any more inception than there is now, 41Nor any more youth or age than there is now, 42And will never be any more perfection than there is now, 43Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now. 44Urge and urge and urge, 45Always the procreant urge of the world. 46Out of the dimness opposite equals advance, always substance and increase, always sex, 47Always a knit of identity, always distinction, always a breed of life. 48To elaborate is no avail, learn'd and unlearn'd feel that it is so. 49Sure as the most certain sure, plumb in the uprights, well entretied, braced in the beams, 50Stout as a horse, affectionate, haughty, electrical, 51I and this mystery here we stand. 52Clear and sweet is my soul, and clear and sweet is all that is not my soul. 53Lack one lacks both, and the unseen is proved by the seen, 54Till that becomes unseen and receives proof in its turn. 55Showing the best and dividing it from the worst age vexes age, 56Knowing the perfect fitness and equanimity of things, while they discuss I am silent, and go bathe and admire myself. 57Welcome is every organ and attribute of me, and of any man hearty and clean, 58Not an inch nor a particle of an inch is vile, and none shall be less familiar than the rest. 59I am satisfied -- I see, dance, laugh, sing; 60As the hugging and loving bed-fellow sleeps at my side through the night, and withdraws at the peep of the day with stealthy tread, 61Leaving me baskets cover'd with white towels swelling the house with their plenty, 62Shall I postpone my acceptation and realization and scream at my eyes, 63That they turn from gazing after and down the road, 64And forthwith cipher and show me to a cent, 65Exactly the value of one and exactly the value of two, and which is ahead?

4 66Trippers and askers surround me, 67People I meet, the effect upon me of my early life or the ward and city I live in, or the nation, 68The latest dates, discoveries, inventions, societies, authors old and new, 69My dinner, dress, associates, looks, compliments, dues, 70The real or fancied indifference of some man or woman I love, 71The sickness of one of my folks or of myself, or ill-doing or loss or lack of money, or depressions or exaltations, 72Battles, the horrors of fratricidal war, the fever of doubtful news, the fitful events; 73These come to me days and nights and go from me again, 74But they are not the Me myself. 75Apart from the pulling and hauling stands what I am, 76Stands amused, complacent, compassionating, idle, unitary, 77Looks down, is erect, or bends an arm on an impalpable certain rest, 78Looking with side-curved head curious what will come next, 79Both in and out of the game and watching and wondering at it. 80Backward I see in my own days where I sweated through fog with linguists and contenders, 81I have no mockings or arguments, I witness and wait.

5 82I believe in you my soul, the other I am must not abase itself to you, 83And you must not be abased to the other. 84Loafe with me on the grass, loose the stop from your throat, 85Not words, not music or rhyme I want, not custom or lecture, not even the best, 86Only the lull I like, the hum of your valvèd voice. 87I mind how once we lay such a transparent summer morning, 88How you settled your head athwart my hips and gently turn'd over upon me, 89And parted the shirt from my bosom-bone, and plunged your tongue to my bare-stript heart, 90And reach'd till you felt my beard, and reach'd till you held my feet. 91Swiftly arose and spread around me the peace and knowledge that pass all the argument of the earth, 92And I know that the hand of God is the promise of my own, 93And I know that the spirit of God is the brother of my own, 94And that all the men ever born are also my brothers, and the women my sisters and lovers, 95And that a kelson of the creation is love, 96And limitless are leaves stiff or drooping in the fields, 97And brown ants in the little wells beneath them, 98And mossy scabs of the worm fence, heap'd stones, elder, mullein and poke-weed. Sections 1-5, lines 1-98 (1)This poem celebrates the poet's self, but, while the "I" is the poet himself, it is, at the same time, universalized. Whitman says he will "sing myself," but "what I assume you shall assume,/For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you." The poet loafs on the grass and invites his soul to appear. He is thirty seven years old and "in perfect health." He hopes to continue his celebration of self until his death. In section 2, the self, asserting its identity, declares its separateness from civilization and its closeness to nature. "Houses and rooms are full of perfume," Whitman says. "Perfumes" are symbols of other individual selves; but outdoors, the earth's atmosphere denotes the universal self. The poet is tempted to let himself be submerged by other individual selves, but he is determined to maintain his individuality. The poet expresses the joy he feels through his senses. He is enthralled by the ecstasy of his physical sensations. He can enjoy each of the five senses-tasting, hearing, smelling, touching, and seeing-and even more-the process of breathing, the beating of his heart, and "the feeling of health." He invites the reader to "stop this day and night" with him in order to discover "the origin of all poems." In the third and fourth sections, Whitman scolds the "talkers," "trippers," and "askers" for wasting their time discussing "the beginning and the end." He prepares himself for the union of his body with his soul: "I witness and wait." As his soul is "clear and sweet," so are all the other parts of his body -and everyone's bodies. "Not an inch ... is vile, and none shall be less familiar than the rest." Section 5 is the poet's ecstatic revelation of union with his soul. He has a feeling of fraternity and oneness with God and his fellowmen and a vision of love. This union brings him peace and joy. Notes 49] entretied: cross-braced. 95] kelson: keelson, the timber supports for a ship's keel. 98] mullein: tall flower-spiked plant.

poke-weed: poisonous red-berried weed "Self" In this poem Whitman seems to put himself in the center, but the "self" of the poem's speaker - the "I" of the poem - should not be limited to or confused with the person of the historical Walt Whitman. This is an expansive persona, one that has exploded the conventional boundaries of the self. "I pass death with the dying, and birth with the new-washed babe .... and am not contained between my hat and boots" (section 7). There are several other quotes from the poem that make it apparent that Whitman does not see himself as the voice of one individual. Rather, he seems to be speaking for all: * "in all people I see myself, none more and not one a barleycorn less/and the good or bad I say of myself I say of them" (Section 20) * "it is you talking just as much as myself…I act as the tongue of you" (Section 47) * "I am large…I contain multitudes." (Section 51) * "For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you." (Section 1) Two articles, Alice L. Cook's "A Note on Whitman's Symbolism in 'Song of Myself'" and John B. Mason's "Walt Whitman Catalogues: Rhetorical Means for Two Journeys in 'Song of Myself", give interpretations as to the meaning of the 'self' as well as its importance to the poem. Cook writes of the "concept of 'self' in its individual and universal aspects" while Mason discusses "the reader's involvement in the poet's movement from the singular to the cosmic." The "self" serves as an ideal which, unlike epic poetry of the past, this identify is one of the common people rather than an elevated hero.[2]

Answer 3

Whitman suggests that he celebrates and embraces all aspects of his being, including his flaws and imperfections, as they make him unique and contribute to his identity. He emphasizes self-acceptance and the notion that each individual has value and significance.

Answer 4

In the sixth section of "Songs of Myself" Walt Whitman uses the metaphor of grass. He uses this to attempt to explain the democratic self.