Page:Leaves of Grass (1855).djvu/62

56 It flings my likeness after the rest and true as any on the shadowed wilds, It coaxes me to the vapor and the dusk.

I depart as air .... I shake my white locks at the runaway sun, I effuse my flesh in eddies and drift it in lacy jags.

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love, If you want me again look for me under your bootsoles.

You will hardly know who I am or what I mean, But I shall be good health to you nevertheless, And filter and fibre your blood.

Failing to fetch me me at first keep encouraged, Missing me one place search another, I stop some where waiting for you