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LEAVES OF GRASS

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Come, said my soul,

Such verses for my Body let us write, (for we are one,)

That should I after return,

Or, long, long hence, in other spheres,

There to some group of mates the chants resuming,

(Tallying Earth’s soil, trees, winds, tumultuous waves,)

Ever with pleas’d smile I may keep on,

Ever and ever yet the verses owning — as, first, I here and now

Signing for Soul and Body, set to them my name,

The Essential Works of Walt Whitman

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