'Song of the Open Road'

From this hour I ordain myself loos'd of limits and imaginary lines.
Going where I list, my own master total and absolute ...
I inhale great droughts of space,
The east and west are mine, and the north and the south are mine,
I am larger, better than I thought...

What gives me to be free to a woman’s or man’s good-will?
What gives them to be free to mine?
The efflux of the Soul is happiness—here is happiness;
I think it pervades the open air, waiting at all times;
Now it flows unto us—we are rightly charged...
Allons! whoever you are, come travel with me!
Travelling with me, you find what never tires.
The earth never tires;
The earth is rude, silent, incomprehensible at first—Nature is rude and incomprehensible at first;
Be not discouraged—keep on—there are divine things, well envelop’d;
I swear to you there are divine things more beautiful than words can tell.
Allons! we must not stop here!
However sweet these laid-up stores—however convenient this dwelling, we cannot remain here;
However shelter’d this port, and however calm these waters, we must not anchor here;
However welcome the hospitality that surrounds us, we are permitted to receive it but a little while.

All parts away for the progress of souls;
All religion, all solid things, arts, governments—all that was or is apparent upon this globe or any globe, falls into niches and corners before the procession of souls along the grand roads of the universe.
Of the progress of the souls of men and women along the grand roads of the universe, all other progress is the needed emblem and sustenance. 

    ~ Walt Whitman, from his 'Song of the Open Road'
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