Shut not your doors to me proud libraries, For that which was lacking on all your well-fill'd shelves, yet needed most, I bring, Forth from the war e… - Walt Whitman

The words of my book are nothing, the drift of it everything.

The words of my book nothing, the drift of it everything.

Forth from the war emerging,a book I have made, the words of my book nothing, the drift of it everything, a book separate, not link'd with the rest nor felt by the intellect, but you ye untold latencies will thrill to every page.

Forth from the war emerging, a book I have made, The words of my book nothing, the drift of it every thing,

The clock indicates the moment...but what does eternity indicate?

... What living and buried speech is vibrating here... what howls restrained by decorum...

I sing the Equalities, modern or old,
I sing the endless finales of things;
I say Nature continues — Glory continues;
I praise with electric voice;
For I do not see one imperfection in the universe;
And I do not see one cause or result lamentable at last in the universe.

O setting sun! though the time has come,
I still warble under you, if none else does, unmitigated adoration.