To The Garden The World

Walt Whitman

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TO THE garden, the world, anew ascending,
Potent mates, daughters, sons, preluding,
The love, the life of their bodies, meaning and being,
Curious, here behold my resurrection, after slumber;
The revolving cycles, in their wide sweep, have brought me again,
Amorous, mature--all beautiful to me--all wondrous;
My limbs, and the quivering fire that ever plays through them, for
reasons, most wondrous;
Existing, I peer and penetrate still,
Content with the present--content with the past,
By my side, or back of me, Eve following,


Or in front, and I following her just the same.

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