1  

Darest thou now, 
O Soul, Walk out with me toward the Unknown Region, 
Where neither ground is for the feet, nor any path to follow?  

2  
No map, there, nor guide, 
Nor voice sounding, nor touch of human hand, 
Nor face with blooming flesh, nor lips, nor eyes, are in that land.

3  
I know it not, O Soul; 
Nor dost thou--all is a blank before us; 
All waits, undream'd of, in that region--that inaccessible land.  

4  
Till, when the ties loosen, 
All but the ties eternal, Time and Space, 
Nor darkness, gravitation, sense, nor any bounds, bound us.  

5  
Then we burst forth--we float, 
In Time and Space, O Soul--prepared for them; 
Equal, equipt at last--(O joy! O fruit of all!) them to fulfil, O  
Soul.

Walt Whitman