TO the garden, the world, anew ascending, 
Potent mates, daughters, sons, preluding, 
The love, the life of their bodies, meaning and being, 
Curious, here behold my resurrection, after slumber; 
The revolving cycles, in their wide sweep, have brought me again,
Amorous, mature—all beautiful to me—all wondrous; 
My limbs, and the quivering fire that ever plays through them, for reasons, most wondrous;
	
Existing, I peer and penetrate still, 
Content with the present—content with the past, 
By my side, or back of me, Eve following,
Or in front, and I following her just the same.

Added: on April 27th, 2006 at 3:09 PM | Viewed: 5082 times | Comments (2)

Poet: Walt Whitman
Poem: 1. To the Garden the World.
Volume: Leaves of Grass
- 2. Children of Adam
Year: Published/Written in 1900

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