O LIVING always—always dying!O the burials of me, past and present!O me, while I stride ahead, material, visible, imperi- ous as ever!O me, what I was for years, now dead, (I lament not —I am content;)O to disengage myself from those corpses of me, which I turn and look at, where I cast them!To pass on, (O living! always living!) and leave the corpses behind!