I pass death with the dying and birth with the new-wash'd babe, and am not contained between my hat and my boots,
And I will show that nothing can happen more beautiful than death.
Joy, shipmate, joy (Pleased 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 She swiftly courses from the shore, Joy, shipmate, joy.
O joy of suffering To struggle against great odds to meet enemies undaunted To be entirely alone with them to find how much one can stand To look strife, torture, prison, popular odium, death, face to face To mount the scaffold to advance to the muzzles of guns with perfect nonchalance To be indeed a God.
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More Walt Whitman Quotations (By Book Titles)
- Leaves of Grass
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