Welcome

"Demon or bird! (said the boy’s soul,)

 Is it indeed toward your mate you sing? or is it mostly to me?

 For I, that was a child, my tongue’s use sleeping,

 Now I have heard you,

 Now in a moment I know what I am for — I awake,

 And already a thousand singers — a thousand songs,

 clearer, louder and more sorrowful than yours,

 A thousand warbling echoes have started to life within me,

 Never to die."

  from "Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking"

  Walt Whitman (1819–1892)

  Leaves of Grass (1900)