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Walt Whitman - Night On The Prairies
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NIGHT on the prairies;
The supper is over—the fire on the ground burns low;
The wearied emigrants sleep, wrapt in their blankets:
I walk by myself—I stand and look at the stars, which I think now I
         never realized before.

Now I absorb immortality and peace,
I admire death, and test propositions.

How plenteous! How spiritual! How resumé!
The same Old Man and Soul—the same old aspirations, and the same
         content.

I was thinking the day most splendid, till I saw what the not-day
         exhibited,
I was thinking this globe enough, till there sprang out so noiseless
         around me myriads of other globes.                           


Now, while the great thoughts of space and eternity fill me, I will
         measure myself by them;
And now, touch`d with the lives of other globes, arrived as far along
         as those of the earth,
Or waiting to arrive, or pass`d on farther than those of the earth,
I henceforth no more ignore them, than I ignore my own life,
Or the lives of the earth arrived as far as mine, or waiting to
         arrive.

O I see now that life cannot exhibit all to me—as the day cannot,
I see that I am to wait for what will be exhibited by death.
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