Song of Myself (Part 12) - Walt Whitman
Observing the Butcher-Boy and Blacksmiths at Work
The butcher-boy puts off his killing-clothes, or sharpens his knife at the stall in the market,
I loiter enjoying his repartee and his shuffle and breakdown.
Blacksmiths with grimed and hairy chests environ the anvil,
Each has his main-sledge, they are all out, there is a great heat in the fire.
From the cinder-strewn threshold I follow their movements,
The lithe sheer of their waists plays even with their massive arms,
Overhand the hammers swing—overhand so slow—overhand so sure,
They do not hasten, each man hits in his place.
In Part 12 of Walt Whitman’s “Song of Myself,” we encounter vivid scenes from ordinary life—most notably a butcher finishing up his day’s work and blacksmiths methodically plying their trade. Rather than painting these laborers as unremarkable, Whitman dignifies their tasks, focusing on the rhythm and presence they bring to seemingly routine actions.
First, we see the butcher-boy stepping away from his “killing-clothes” in a market stall. In this small moment, Whitman reminds us how each profession has its own custom, attire, and set of rhythmic gestures. By observing the butcher’s “repartee and his shuffle and breakdown,” the poet imbues this daily work with an almost theatrical quality, as if the butcher is putting on a performance that merges talk, skill, and bodily movement.
The perspective then shifts to the blacksmiths, whose world is one of intense heat and metallic clangs. Descriptions of their “grimed and hairy chests” place us directly into the tangible reality of hard labor, while Whitman’s careful attention to “the lithe sheer of their waists” and their measured hammer swings emphasizes a surprisingly elegant dance. Every movement is deliberate; nothing is rushed. Through this lens, the blacksmiths’ labor becomes more than just a means to shape metal—it’s a controlled, almost ritualistic expression of strength, coordination, and focus.
A key aspect of Whitman’s vision is how he finds poetic resonance in the everyday. Like the rest of “Song of Myself,” this section illustrates his conviction that no human endeavor is beneath notice or unworthy of reverence. By “loitering” and observing, he elevates what others might dismiss as ordinary tasks. We come to realize that these moments are part of a grand tapestry of life, one in which every form of work has its own cadence and significance.
Moreover, the poet’s tone is celebratory, not critical. He admires the butcher’s casual banter as much as the blacksmiths’ unwavering discipline. Taken together, these images evoke the quiet grandeur of people doing what they do best, day in and day out. It’s not an ode to grandeur or high drama—it is an ode to life’s grounded yet profound rhythms.
Ultimately, this section encourages us to see beauty in life’s simple, purposeful motions. Whether we are forging steel or simply pausing to watch a butcher set down his tools, Whitman insists that our shared human efforts contain their own grace. In this way, Part 12 resonates with a timeless truth: each job, each ritual, each person is connected by the universal pulse of living and working together on this earth.
Key points
• Whitman finds poetic depth in common occupations.
• Seemingly mundane tasks become artful, rhythmic events.
• By observing carefully, we appreciate everyday labor as sacred.
• The poet highlights shared humanity through each worker’s unique motions.
• Ordinary life is worthy of celebration and profound respect.
