Of him I love day and night, I dreamed I heard he was

      dead,

And I dreamed I went where they had buried him I

      love—But he was not in that place,

And I dreamed I wandered, searching among burial-

      places, to find him,

And I found that every place was a burial-place,

The houses full of life were equally full of death, (This

      house is now,)

The streets, the shipping, the places of amusement, the

      Chicago, Philadelphia, the Mannahatta, Boston,

      were as full of the dead as of the living,

And fuller, O vastly fuller, of the dead than of the

      living;

—And what I dreamed I will henceforth tell to every

      person and age,

And I stand henceforth bound to what I dreamed;

And now I am willing to disregard burial-places, and

      dispense with them,

And if the memorials of the dead were put indiffer- 

      ently everywhere, even in the room where I eat or

      sleep, I should be satisfied,

And if the corpse of any one I love, or if my own

      corpse, be duly rendered to powder and poured in

      the sea, I shall be satisfied,

Or if it be distributed to the winds, I shall be satisfied.

WALT WHITMAN.