SMALL is the theme of the following Chant, yet the greatest--namely,
One's-Self--that wondrous thing a simple, separate person.
That, for the use of the New World, I sing.
Man's physiology complete, from top to toe, I sing. Not physiognomy
alone, nor brain alone, is worthy for the muse;--I say the Form
complete is worthier far. The female equal with the male, I
Nor cease at the theme of One's-Self. I speak the word of the modern,
the word En-Masse:
My Days I sing, and the Lands--with interstice I knew of hapless War.