Me celebro y me canto a mí mismo. Y lo que yo diga ahora de mí, lo digo de ti, porque lo que yo tengo lo tienes tú y cada átomo de mi cuerpo es tuyo … - Walt Whitman

The untold want, by life and land ne'er granted,
Now, Voyager, sail thou forth, to seek and find.

To be in any form, what is that?
(round and round we go, all of us, and ever come back thither,)
If nothing lay more develop'd the quahung in it's callous shell were enough.
Mine is no callous shell.
I have instant conductors all over me whether I pass or stop,
they seize every object and lead it harmlessly through me.
I merely stir, press, feel with my fingers, and I am happy, to touch my person to someone else's is about as much as I can stand.

Lo! the moon ascending!
Up from the East, the silvery round moon;
Beautiful over the house-tops, ghastly, phantom moon;
Immense and silent moon.