Daily Whitman

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Song of Myself
17
  These are really the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands, they
      are not original with me,
  If they are not yours as much as mine they are nothing, or next to nothing,
  If they are not the riddle and the untying of the riddle they are nothing,
  If they are not just as close as they are distant they are nothing.

  This is the grass that grows wherever the land is and the water is,
  This the common air that bathes the globe.

 

Posted on 09/05/2014, in literature, poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

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