Leaves of Grass, by Walt Whitman

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OUT of the rolling ocean, the crowd, came a drop gently
to me,

Whispering, I love you, before long I die,

I have travelled a long way, merely to look on you, to touch
you,

For I could not die till I once look'd on you,

For I fear'd I might afterwards lose you .

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(Now we have met, we have look'd, we are safe;

Return in peace to the ocean, my love;

I too am part of that ocean, my love—we are not so
much separated;

Behold the great rondure—the cohesion of all, how per-
fect!

But as for me, for you, the irresistible sea is to separate
us,

As for an hour, carrying us diverse—yet cannot carry
us diverse for ever;

Be not impatient—a little space—Know you, I salute
the air, the ocean, and the land,

Every day, at sundown, for your dear sake, my love.)

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