Leaves of Grass, by Walt Whitman

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THITHER, as I look, I see each result and glory re-
tracing itself and nestling close, always obli-
gated;

Thither hours, months, years—thither trades, com-
pacts, establishments, even the most minute;

Thither every-day life, speech, utensils, politics, per-
sons, estates;

Thither we also, I with my leaves and songs, trustful,
admirant,

As a father, to his father going, takes his children
along with him.

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