Leaves of Grass, by Walt Whitman

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WEAVE in! weave in, my hardy life!

Weave, weave a soldier strong and full, for great cam-
paigns to come;

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 to weave;

We know not why or what, yet weave, forever weave.

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