Out of the Rolling Ocean, the Crowd. by Walt Whitman
1 OUT of the rolling ocean, the crowd, came a drop gently to me, Whispering, I love you, before long I die, I have travelâ€™d a long way, merely to look on you, to touch you, For I could not die till I once lookâ€™d on you, For I fearâ€™d I might afterward lose you.
2 (Now we have met, we have lookâ€™d, we are safe; Return in peace to the ocean, my love; I too am part of that ocean, my loveâ€”we are not so much separated; Behold the great rondureâ€”the cohesion of all, how perfect! But as for me, for you, the irresistible sea is to separate us, As for an hour, carrying us diverseâ€”yet cannot carry us diverse for ever; Be not impatientâ€”a little spaceâ€”Know you, I salute the air, the ocean and the land, Every day, at sundown, for your dear sake, my love.)