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Ah little recks the laborer, How near his work is holding him to God, The loving Laborer through space and time

Walt Whitman

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Walt Whitman
Age: 72 †
Born: 1819
Born: May 31
Died: 1892
Died: March 26
Editor
Essayist
Journalist
Novelist
Nurse
Poet
Writer
West Hills
New York
Walter Whitman
Time
Laborers
Holding
Near
Loving
Space
Littles
Little
Work
Laborer

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I swear the earth shall surely be complete to him or her who shall be complete, The earth remains jagged and broken only to him or her who remains jagged and broken.
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I loafe and invite my soul.
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All the things of the universe are perfect miracles, each as profound as any.
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To die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.
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Only themselves understand themselves and the like of themselves, As souls only understand souls.
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Loafe with me on the grass—loose the stop from your throat Not words, not music or rhyme I want—not custom or lecture, not even the best Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice.
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I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love, If you want me again look for me under your bootsoles.
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