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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