1
OUT of the rolling ocean, the crowd, came a drop gently to me, 
Whispering, I love you, before long I die, 
I have travel’d a long way, merely to look on you, to touch you, 
For I could not die till I once look’d on you, 
For I fear’d I might afterward lose you.
  
2
(Now we have met, we have look’d, we are safe; 
Return in peace to the ocean, my love; 
I too am part of that ocean, my love—we are not so much separated; 
Behold the great rondure—the cohesion of all, how perfect! 
But as for me, for you, the irresistible sea is to separate us,
As for an hour, carrying us diverse—yet cannot carry us diverse for ever; 
Be not impatient—a little space—Know you, I salute the air, the ocean and the
	land, 
Every day, at sundown, for your dear sake, my love.)

Poet: Walt Whitman
Poem: 8. Out of the Rolling Ocean, the Crowd.
Volume: Leaves of Grass
- 2. Children of Adam
Year: Published/Written in 1900

Are you looking for more information on this poem? Perhaps you are trying to analyze it? The poem, Out of the Rolling Ocean, the Crowd., has received 27 comments. Click here to read them, and perhaps post a comment of your own.