Lingering Last Drops

From ImmortalPoetry
Jump to navigationJump to search

from Leaves of Grass: BOOKXXXV: GOOD-BYE MY FANCY - by Walt Whitman.

  And whence and why come you?

  We know not whence, (was the answer,)
  We only know that we drift here with the rest,
  That we linger’d and lagg’d—but were wafted at last, and are now here,
  To make the passing shower’s concluding drops.

 


Add your comment
ImmortalPoetry welcomes all comments. If you do not want to be anonymous, register or log in. It is free.