Walt Whitman

Leaves of Grass. 19. Sea-Drift. 8. On the Beach at Night Alone

On the beach at night alone,
As the old mother sways her to and fro singing her husky song,
As I watch the bright stars shining, I think a thought of the clef of
the universes and of the future.
A vast similitude interlocks all,
All spheres, grown, ungrown, small, large, suns, moons,
   planets,
All distances of place however wide,
All distances of time, all inanimate forms,
All souls, all living bodies though they be ever so different, or in
   different worlds,
All gaseous, watery, vegetable, mineral processes, the fishes, the
   brutes,
All nations, colors, barbarisms, civilizations, languages,
All identities I hat have existed or may exist on this globe, or any
   globe,
All lives and deaths, all of the past, present, future,
This vast similitude spans them, and always has spann'd,
And shall forever span them and compactly hold and enclose
   them.