“The press of my foot to the earth springs a hundred affections,
  That scorn the best I can do to relate them.”

And the press of your mind to these pages will certainly start new and countless problems that poetry and art have never before touched, and that afford a perpetual stimulus and delight.

It has been said that the object of poetry and the higher forms of literature is to escape from the tyranny of the real into the freedom of the ideal; but what is the ideal unless ballasted and weighted with the real?  All these poems have a lofty ideal background; the great laws and harmonies stretch unerringly above them, and give their vista and perspective.  It is because Whitman’s ideal is clothed with rank materiality, as the soul is clothed with the carnal body, that his poems beget such warmth and desire in the mind, and are the reservoirs of so much power.  No one can feel more than I how absolutely necessary it is that the facts of nature and experience be born again in the heart of the bard, and receive the baptism of the true fire before they be counted poetical; and I have no trouble on this score with the author of “Leaves of Grass.”  He never fails to ascend into spiritual meanings.  Indeed, the spirituality of Walt Whitman is the chief fact after all, and dominates every page he has written.

Observe that this singer and artist makes no direct attempt to be poetical, any more than he does to be melodious or rhythmical.  He approaches these qualities and results as it were from beneath, and always indirectly; they are drawn to him, not he to them; and if they appear absent from his page at first, it is because we have been looking for them in the customary places on the outside, where he never puts them, and have not yet penetrated the interiors.  As many of the fowls hide their eggs by a sort of intuitive prudery and secretiveness, Whitman always half hides, or more than half hides, his thought, his glow, his magnetism, his most golden and orbic treasures.

Finally, as those men and women respect and love Walt Whitman best who have known him longest and closest personally, the same rule will apply to “Leaves of Grass” and the later volume, “Two Rivulets.”  It is indeed neither the first surface reading of those books, nor perhaps even the second or third, that will any more than prepare the student for the full assimilation of the poems.  Like Nature, and like the Sciences, they suggest endless suites of chambers opening and expanding more and more and continually.

INDEX

    [Transcribist’s note:  Index has been shortened to names
    of authors and to birds, with scientific names.]

Aeschylus
Akers, Elizabeth. 
Apuleius. 
Audubon, John Jaines.