Page:Leaves of Grass (1860).djvu/251





O my hand, Walt Whitman! Such gliding wonders! Such sights and sounds! Such joined unended links, each hooked to the next! Each answering all—each sharing the earth with all.

What widens within you, Walt Whitman? What waves and soils exuding? What climes? What persons and lands are here? Who are the infants? Some playing, some slumbering? Who are the girls? Who are the married women? Who are the three old men going slowly with their
 * arms about each others' necks?

What rivers are these? What forests and fruits are
 * these?

What are the mountains called that rise so high in
 * the mists?

What myriads of dwellings are they, filled with
 * dwellers?

Within me latitude widens, longitude lengthens,
 * Asia, Africa, Europe, are to the east—America is
 * provided for in the west,

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