Books by Whitman
View Page 339
WEAVE IN, WEAVE IN, MY HARDY LIFE.
|WEAVE in! weave in, my hardy life!|
|Weave yet a soldier strong and full, for great campaigns|
|Weave in red blood; weave sinews in, like ropes! the|
senses, sight weave in!
|Weave lasting sure! weave day and night the weft, the|
warp, incessant weave! tire not!
|(We know not what the use, O life! nor know the aim,|
the end—nor really aught we know;
|But know the work, the need goes on, and shall go on—|
the death-envelop'd march of peace as well as
war goes on;)
|For great campaigns of peace the same, the wiry threads|
|We know not why or what, yet weave, forever weave.|