[Poem] SONG OF MYSELF (PART 19) - Equality at the Table and Intimate Revelations

Part 19 of Walt Whitman’s “Song of Myself” opens with a celebratory “meal” laid out for all people, regardless of moral standing or social status. In this sweeping declaration of inclusivity, the poet reminds us that life’s fundamental sustenance—both literal and metaphorical—belongs to everyone, from the so-called “wicked” to the “righteous.” He makes it clear that no one should be cast aside, ensuring that even those labeled by society as outcasts are equally included.

This theme ties into Whitman’s broader democratic vision: a society in which all souls, no matter their reputations, histories, or identities, are invited to partake in shared communion. He pushes us to look beyond artificial barriers, recognizing that each individual carries intrinsic worth. Whether one is a “kept-woman,” “thief,” or someone suffering from a venereal disease, they are equally deserving of the poet’s hospitality—a powerful stance that upends social norms of the mid-19th century.

Shifting focus, Whitman then moves into an intimate register, evoking physical sensation: the press of a “bashful hand,” the “float and odor of hair,” and the touch of lips. These details underscore his conviction that human connection transcends class, moral labels, or external judgment. By highlighting embodied gestures of closeness, Whitman insists on a physical, emotional, and even spiritual unity. This moment is both sensual and deeply personal, reminding us that our lives intersect through tangible, everyday interactions.

He follows with rhetorical questions, asking if we assume he holds some “intricate purpose,” as if to suggest that the poet’s purpose resides in plain sight, as natural as “Fourth-month showers” or the shimmer of mica on a rock. Whitman takes a stance against overly esoteric interpretations of art or existence. Life, for him, doesn’t have to prove its significance through complexity or contrivance. Indeed, Whitman places himself on equal footing with nature—his “astonishing” nature is no more remarkable than daylight or a bird’s cheerful twittering. Existence itself is enough of a marvel without the need for further embellishment.

Finally, Whitman closes by hinting at a disclosure made “in confidence.” This reflects a recurring pattern in “Song of Myself,” where the poet’s revelations feel both universal and intimately addressed to a single reader. By speaking directly to “you,” he continues erasing the distance between reader and poet, reinforcing the reciprocal relationship that animates his work. Even though these truths might be confided to one person, they belong to everyone. In Whitman’s eyes, there is no contradiction—personal intimacy can also be universal. It is an affirmation that each reader holds a place of significance in the poet’s grand, inclusive vision.

Part 19 thus underscores Whitman’s persistent call to embrace all facets of humanity and the natural world with equal warmth. With an open table to which every person is invited, the poet reinforces a radical empathy that was striking for its era—and remains striking today. By coupling radical inclusivity with a tender focus on physical touch and personal revelation, he emphasizes that authentic connections, both bodily and spiritual, exist at the heart of the human experience.