1FULL of life, sweet-blooded, compact, visible,I, forty years old the Eighty-third Year of The States,To one a century hence, or any number of centuries hence,To you, yet unborn, these, seeking you.2When you read these, I, that was visible, am become invisible;Now it is you, compact, visible, realizing my poems, seeking me,Fancying how happy you were, if I could be with you, and become your lover;Be it as if I were with you. Be not too certain but I am now with you.