Walt Whitman on Death

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

“Joy, shipmate, joy (Pleas'd to my soul at death I cry,) Our life is closed, our life begins, The long, long anchorage we leave, The ship is clear at last, she leaps! Joy, shipmate, joy!”