Excerpt from Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass:

Have you practised so long to learn to read? Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems? Stop this day and night with me, and you shall possess the origin of all poems, You shall possess the good of the earth and sun-- there are millions of suns left, You shall no longer take things at second or third hand.... nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books, You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me, You shall listen to all sides, and filter them from yourself. Loaf with me on the grass -- loose the stop from your throat, Not words, not music or rhyme I want -- not custom or lecture, not even the best, Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice. When you read these, I, that was visible, am become invisible, Now it is you, compact, visible, realizing my poems, seeking me, Fancying how happy you were, if I could be with you, and become your lover; Be it as if I were with you. Be not too certain but I am now with you.