
Continuities Walt Whitman
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(From a talk I had lately with a German spiritualist)
Nothing is ever really lost, or can be lost
No birth, identity, form—no object of the world
Nor life, nor force, nor any visible thing;
Appearance must not foil, nor shifted sphere confuse thy brain
Ample are time and space—ample the fields of Nature
The body, sluggish, aged, cold—the embers left from earlier fires
The light in the eye grown dim, shall duly flame again;
The sun now low in the west rises for mornings and for noons continual;
To frozen clods ever the spring's invisible law returns
With grass and flowers and summer fruits and corn
Nothing is ever really lost, or can be lost
No birth, identity, form—no object of the world
Nor life, nor force, nor any visible thing;
Appearance must not foil, nor shifted sphere confuse thy brain
Ample are time and space—ample the fields of Nature
The body, sluggish, aged, cold—the embers left from earlier fires
The light in the eye grown dim, shall duly flame again;
The sun now low in the west rises for mornings and for noons continual;
To frozen clods ever the spring's invisible law returns
With grass and flowers and summer fruits and corn
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