“Song of Myself” contains fifty-two sections of varying lengths. Although the section’s title refers directly to the poet, this concept of the “self” is profoundly inclusive and widely accessible. The poem ranges over a wide variety of topics, stressing the connection between all people and things, as well as the poet’s love for the world and refusal to condemn or exclude any aspect of it. It features extended litanies describing places, people, and animals to emphasize the vastness and variety of the world and explain why Whitman loves it so dearly.

The poem begins with a declaration: “I celebrate myself and sing myself.” The poet stresses that this celebration includes every other self as well, as “every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.” He depicts himself at the age of thirty-seven, “in perfect health,” setting out on a journey with an open mind and heart, and enjoying the world around him. 

Speaking to readers, Whitman encourages them to look at the world with fresh eyes rather than learn about it “second or third hand” from books—even Whitman’s own. He says that his soul is “clear and sweet,” but so is everything else in the world. At times, he is surrounded by people, all of whom he observes and accepts with “no mockings or arguments.”

In section six, a child asks the question: “What is the grass?” The poet cannot answer because he knows no more than the child. He makes numerous guesses. Perhaps the grass may be “the flag of my disposition,” “the handkerchief of the Lord,” “the produced babe of the vegetation,” or even “a uniform hieroglyphic.” This uncertainty about the true nature of the grass is a broader symbol for the interconnected multitudes of man, whose self-expression and personhood are just as unique and unknowable.

Later, Whitman goes on to describe a wide range of people, all of whom he loves and appreciates, such as the “picturesque giant” driving a team of horses, the lunatic being carried off to the asylum, and many more. In the long, sweeping vista of section fifteen, he ranges from the opium eater and the prostitute to the “President holding a cabinet council … surrounded by the great Secretaries,” identifying himself with all of them. In section sixteen, he goes on to enumerate the “many nations” that make up the American nation. 

In section twenty, Whitman asks: “What is a man anyhow? What am I? What are you?” The answers to these questions are manifold: he sees himself in all people, as all bodies and souls are shaped by the same forces. In section twenty-four, he begins with his own name, announcing himself: “Walt Whitman, a kosmos, of Manhattan the son.” He affirms his commitment to democracy, sexuality, and sensuality, saying that he is removing the veil from “sexes and lusts” and intentionally featuring “indecent” voices in his songs. 

Whitman continues, explaining that he worships the spread of his own body and dotes on himself; he is quite frank when he explains that he enjoys the physical processes of life. In section thirty-one, he says that “a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars.” He continues to celebrate the glories of nature when he declares that “a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels.” Moreover, he expresses admiration for the placid natures of animals, which care nothing for the opinions of others and are not “respectable or unhappy.” In section thirty-three, he lays claim to every type of experience—however painful and terrifying—including that of the “hounded slave” pursued by dogs, the fireman surrounded...