Election Day, November, 1884
If I should need to name, O Western World, your powerfulest scene and show, / 'Twould not be you, Niagara--nor you, ye limitless prairies--nor
Continuities
❦
Nothing is ever really lost, or can be lost,
No birth, identity, form--no object of the world.
Nor life, nor force, nor any visible thing;
Appearance must not foil, nor shifted sphere confuse thy brain.
Ample are time and space--ample the fields of Nature.
The body, sluggish, aged, cold--the embers left from earlier fires,
The light in the eye grown dim, shall duly flame again;
The sun now low in the west rises for mornings and for noons continual;
To frozen clods ever the spring's invisible law returns,
With grass and flowers and summer fruits and corn.
More poems by Walt Whitman
Gliding O'er all
Gliding o'er all, through all, / Through Nature, Time, and Space,
Pensive on Her Dead Gazing
Pensive on her dead gazing I heard the Mother of All, / Desperate on the torn bodies, on the forms covering the battlefields gazing,
To Thee Old Cause
To thee old cause! / Thou peerless, passionate, good cause,