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 | Leaves of grass (1872) |  |
10
25
Passage indeed, O soul, to primal thought!Not lands and seas alone—thy own clear freshness,
The young maturity of brood and bloom;
To realms of budding bibles.
26
O soul, repressless, I with thee, and thou with me,Thy circumnavigation of the world begin;
Of man, the voyage of his mind's return,
To reason's early paradise,
Back, back to wisdom's birth to innocent intuitions,
Again with fair Creation.
| Leaves of grass (1872) | |