Come, said my soul write poems for my body
(they are one), so
that if I return after death invisibly,
or much, much later,
in other areas, there again
turn my songs to a peer group
(adapted to land, trees, winds, tumultuous waves )
I can always keep a smile of joy, my verse ever recognizing
- for here and now,
signed by the soul and the body,
and put before them my name. WALT WHITMAN
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