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Leaves of Grass (1871-72)
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TO HIM THAT WAS CRUCIFIED.
My spirit to yours, dear brother; |
Do not mind because many, sounding your name, do
not understand you;
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I do not sound your name, but I understand you, (there
are others also;)
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I specify you with joy, O my comrade, to salute you,
and to salute those who are with you, before and
since—and those to come also,
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That we all labor together, transmitting the same
charge and succession;
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We few, equals, indifferent of lands, indifferent of
times;
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We, enclosers of all continents, all castes—allowers of
all theologies,
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Compassionaters, perceivers, rapport of men, |
We walk silent among disputes and assertions, but
reject not the disputers, nor any thing that is
asserted;
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We hear the bawling and din—we are reached at by
divisions, jealousies, recriminations on every
side,
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They close peremptorily upon us, to surround us, my
comrade,
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Yet we walk unheld, free, the whole earth over, jour-
neying up and down, till we make our inefface-
able mark upon time and the diverse eras,
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Till we saturate time and eras, that the men and wo-
men of races, ages to come, may prove brethren
and lovers, as we are.
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