Fast Anchor'd, Eternal, O Love

Walt Whitman

   FAST-ANCHOR'D, eternal, O love! O woman I love!
   O bride! O wife! more resistless than I can tell, the thought of you!
   --Then separate, as disembodied, or another born,
   Ethereal, the last athletic reality, my consolation;
   I ascend--I float in the regions of your love, O man,
   O sharer of my roving life.

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