Poem by Walt Whitman

Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 33. “Going Somewhere”

My science-friend, my noblest woman-friend,
(Now buried in an English grave—and this a memory-leaf for her dear sake,)
Ended our talk—"The sum, concluding all we know of old or modern
      learning, intuitions deep,
"Of all Geologies—Histories—of all Astronomy—of Evolution,
      Metaphysics all,
"Is, that we all are onward, onward, speeding slowly, surely bettering,
"Life, life an endless march, an endless army, (no halt, but it is
      duly over,)
"The world, the race, the soul—in space and time the universes,
"All bound as is befitting each—all surely going somewhere."

1. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 56. Old Age's Lambent Peaks
2. Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 13. Out from Behind This Mask [To Confront a Portrait]
3. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. Fancies at Navesink. 1. The Pilot in the Mist
4. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 32. Life
5. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 40. The Voice of the Rain

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