I celebrate myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul
I lean and loafe at my ease...observing a spear of summer
You sea! I resign myself to you also....I guess what you mean,
I behold from the beach your crooked inviting fingers,
I believe you refuse to go back without feeling of me;
We must have a turn together....I undress....hurry me out of sight of the land,
Cushion me soft....rock me in billowy drowse,
Dash me with amorous wet....
I can repay you. (Whitman, "Song of Myself," 1855)