The Last Invocation
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At the last, tenderly,
From the walls of the powerful fortress’d house,
From the clasp of the knitted locks, from the keep of the well-closed doors,
Let me be wafted.
Let me glide noiselessly forth;
With the key of softness unlock the locks—with a whisper,
Set ope the doors O soul.
Tenderly—be not impatient,
(Strong is your hold O mortal flesh,
Strong is your hold O love.)
| from Leaves of Grass: BOOK XXX. WHISPERS OF HEAVENLY DEATH by Walt Whitman | |
| Thought (5) | As I Watch the Ploughman Ploughing 
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