---

Walt Whitman - Out From Behind His Mask
Work rating: Low

OUT from behind this bending, rough-cut Mask,
(All straighter, liker Masks rejected—this preferr`d,)
This common curtain of the face, contain`d in me for me, in you for
         you, in each for each,
(Tragedies, sorrows, laughter, tears—O heaven!
The passionate, teeming plays this curtain hid!)
This glaze of God`s serenest, purest sky,
This film of Satan`s seething pit,
This heart`s geography`s map—this limitless small continent—this
         soundless sea;
Out from the convolutions of this globe,
This subtler astronomic orb than sun or moon—than Jupiter, Venus,
         Mars;                                                        


This condensation of the Universe—(nay, here the only Universe,
Here the IDEA—all in this mystic handful wrapt 
These burin`d eyes, flashing to you, to pass to future time,
To launch and spin through space revolving, sideling—from these to
         emanate,
To You, whoe`er you are—a Look.


A Traveler of thoughts and years—of peace and war,
Of youth long sped, and middle age declining,
(As the first volume of a tale perused and laid away, and this the
         second,
Songs, ventures, speculations, presently to close,)
Lingering a moment, here and now, to You I opposite turn,          


As on the road, or at some crevice door, by chance, or open`d window,
Pausing, inclining, baring my head, You specially I greet,
To draw and clench your Soul, for once, inseparably with mine,
Then travel, travel on.
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.