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Walt Whitman: Poems

Walt Whitman: Out of the Crowd


1.

Out of the rolling ocean, the crowd, came a drop gently to me,

Whispering, _I love you; before long I die:

I have travelled a long way, merely to look on you, to touch you:

For I could not die till I once looked on you,

For I feared I might afterward lose you_.


2.

Now we have met, we have looked, we are safe;

Return in peace to the ocean, my love;

I too am part of that ocean, my love--we are not so much separated;

Behold the great _rondure_--the cohesion of all, how perfect!

But as for me, for you, the irresistible sea is to separate us,

As for an hour carrying us diverse--yet cannot carry us diverse for ever;

Be not impatient--a little space--know you, I salute the air, the ocean,

and the land,

Every day, at sundown, for your dear sake, my love.