Out of the rolling ocean, the crowd, came a drop gently to me,
Whispering, I love you, before long I die,
I have travel'd a long way, merely to look on you, to touch you,
For I could not die till I once look'd on you,
For I fear'd I might afterward lose you.

(Now we have met, we have look'd, we are safe;
Return in peace to the ocean, my love;
I too am part of that ocean, my love-we are not so much separated;
Behold the great rondure-the cohesion of all, how perfect!
But as for me, for you, the irresistible sea is to separate us,
As for an hour, carrying us diverse-yet cannot carry us diverse for ever;
Be not impatient-a little space-Know you, I salute the air, the ocean and the land,
Every day, at sundown, for your dear sake, my love.)
- Poem by by Walt Whitman