I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love, If you want me again look for me under your bootsoles. - Walt Whitman

I was thinking the day most splendid, till I saw what the not day exhibited, I was thinking this globe enough, till there sprang out so noiseless around me myriads of other globes. Now, while the great thoughts of space and eternity fill me, I will measure myself by them: And now, touched with the lives of other globes, arrived as far along as those of the earth, Or waiting to arrive, or passed on farther than those of the earth, I henceforth no more ignore them than I ignore my own life, Or the lives of the earth arrived as far as mine, or waiting to arrive. 3. O I see now that life cannot exhibit all to me-as the day cannot, I see that I am to wait for what will be exhibited by death.

The question, O me! so sad, recurring — What good amid these, O me, O life?
Answer.
That you are here — that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

Why should I be afraid to trust myself to you? I am not afraid, I have been well brought forward by you...