Out From Behind This Bending, Rough-Cut Mask, (All Straighter, Liker Masks Rejected - This Preferr'D,) This Common Curtain Of The Face, Contain'D In Me For Me, In You For You, In Each For Each, (Tragedies, Sorrows, Laughter, Tears - O Heaven! The Passionate, Teeming Plays This Curtain Hid!) This Glaze Of God'S Serenest, Purest Sky, This Film Of Satan'S Seething Pit, This Heart'S Geography'S Map - This Limitless Small Continent - This Soundless Sea; Out From The Convolutions Of This Globe, This Subtler Astronomic Orb Than Sun Or Moon - Than Jupiter, Venus, Mars; This Condensation Of The Universe - (Nay, Here The Only Universe, Here The Idea All In This Mystic Handful Wrapt;) These Burin'D Eyes, Flashing To You, To Pass To Future Time, To Launch And Spin Through Space Revolving, Sideling - From These To Emanate, To You, Whoe'Er You Are A Look. A Traveler Of Thoughts And Years - Of Peace And War, Of Youth Long Sped, And Middle Age Declining, (As The First Volume Of A Tale Perused And Laid Away, And This The Second, Songs, Ventures, Speculations, Presently To Close,) Lingering A Moment, Here And Now, To You I Opposite Turn, As On The Road, Or At Some Crevice Door, By Chance, Or Open'D Window, Pausing, Inclining, Baring My Head, You Specially I Greet, To Draw And Clench Your Soul, For Once, Inseparably With Mine, Then Travel, Travel On.