Walt Whitman

In the New Garden in all the Parts

IN the new garden, in all the parts, In cities now, modern, I wander, Though the second or third result, or still further, primitive yet, Days, places, indifferent—though various, the same, Time, Paradise, the Mannahatta, the prairies, finding me unchanged, Death indifferent—Is it that I lived long since? Was I buried very long ago? For all that, I may now be watching you here, this moment; For the future, with determined will, I seek—the woman of the future, You, born years, centuries after me, I seek.

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