EARTH! My likeness!
Though you look so impassive, ample and spheric there,
I now suspect that is not all;
I now suspect there is something fierce in you, eligible to burst
forth;
For an athlete is enamour'd of me--and I of him;
But toward him there is something fierce and terrible in me, eligible
to burst forth,
I dare not tell it in words--not even in these songs.
Give me solitude—give me Nature—give me again, O Nature, your primal sanities!
Walt Whitman