Leaves of Grass, by Walt Whitman

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DAREST thou now, O soul,

Walk out with me toward the Unknown Region,

Where neither ground is for the feet, nor any path to
follow?

² No map, there, nor guide,

Nor voice sounding, nor touch of human hand,

Nor face with blooming flesh, nor lips, nor eyes, are in
that land.

³ I know it not, O soul;

Nor dost thou—all is a blank before us;

All waits, undream'd of, in that region—that inaccessi-
ble land.

⁴ Till, when the ties loosen,

All but the ties eternal, Time and Space,

Nor darkness, gravitation, sense, nor any bounds, bound
us.

⁵ Then we burst forth—we float,

In Time and Space, O soul—prepared for them;

Equal, equipt at last—(O joy! O fruit of all!) them to
fulfil, O soul.

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