| T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22. | | | | A Woman Waits for Me | | By Walt Whitman (1819–1892) |
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A WOMAN waits for me, she contains all, nothing is lacking, | |
| Yet all were lacking if sex were lacking, or if the moisture of the right man were lacking. | |
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| Sex contains all, | |
| Bodies, souls, meanings, proofs, purities, delicacies, results, promulgations, | |
| Songs, commands, health, pride, the maternal mystery, the seminal milk, | 5 |
| All hopes, benefactions, bestowals, | |
| All the passions, loves, beauties, delights of the earth, | |
| All the governments, judges, gods, follow’d persons of the earth, | |
| These are contain’d in sex as parts of itself and justifications of itself. | |
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| Without shame the man I like knows and avows the deliciousness of his sex, | 10 |
| Without shame the woman I like knows and avows hers. | |
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| Now I will dismiss myself from impassive women, | |
| I will go stay with her who waits for me, and with those women that are warm-blooded and sufficient for me, | |
| I see that they understand me and do not deny me, | |
| I see that they are worthy of me, I will be the robust husband of those women. | 15 |
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| They are not one jot less than I am, | |
| They are tann’d in the face by shining suns and blowing winds, | |
| Their flesh has the old divine suppleness and strength, | |
| They know how to swim, row, ride, wrestle, shoot, run, strike, retreat, advance, resist, defend themselves, | |
| They are ultimate in their own right—they are calm, clear, well-possess’d of themselves. | 20 |
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| I draw you close to me, you women, | |
| I cannot let you go, I would do you good, | |
| I am for you, and you are for me, not only for our own sake, but for others’ sakes, | |
| Envelop’d in you sleep greater heroes and bards, | |
| They refuse to awake at the touch of any man but me. | 25 |
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| It is I, you women, I make my way, | |
| I am stern, acrid, large, undissuadable, but I love you, | |
| I do not hurt you any more than is necessary for you, | |
| I pour the stuff to start sons and daughters fit for these States, I press with slow rude muscle, | |
| I brace myself effectually, I listen to no entreaties, | 30 |
| I dare not withdraw till I deposit what has so long accumulated within me. | |
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| Through you I drain the pent-up rivers of myself, | |
| In you I wrap a thousand onward years, | |
| On you I graft the grafts of the best-beloved of me and America, | |
| The drops I distil upon you shall grow fierce and athletic girls, new artists, musicians, and singers, | 35 |
| The babes I beget upon you are to beget babes in their turn, | |
| I shall demand perfect men and women out of my love spendings, | |
| I shall expect them to interpenetrate with others, as I and you interpenetrate now, | |
| I shall count on the fruits of the gushing showers of them, as I count on the fruits of the gushing showers I give now, | |
| I shall look for loving crops from the birth, life, death, immortality, I plant so lovingly now. | 40 | | | |
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