Poem - "Assurances" by Walt Whitman

"Assurances" 
by Walt Whitman


I NEED no assurances—I am a man who is preoccupied, of his own Soul;


I do not doubt that from under the feet, and beside the hands and face I am cognizant of,

are

now looking faces I am not cognizant of—calm and actual faces;

I do not doubt but the majesty and beauty of the world are latent in any iota of the

world;

I do not doubt I am limitless, and that the universes are limitless—in vain I try to

think

how limitless;

I do not doubt that the orbs, and the systems of orbs, play their swift sports through the

air

on purpose—and that I shall one day be eligible to do as much as they, and more than

they;

I do not doubt that temporary affairs keep on and on, millions of years;

I do not doubt interiors have their interiors, and exteriors have their exteriors—and

that

the eye-sight has another eye-sight, and the hearing another hearing, and the voice

another

voice;

I do not doubt that the passionately-wept deaths of young men are provided for—and

that

the deaths of young women, and the deaths of little children, are provided for;

(Did you think Life was so well provided for—and Death, the purport of all Life, is

not

well provided for?)

I do not doubt that wrecks at sea, no matter what the horrors of them—no matter whose

wife, child, husband, father, lover, has gone down, are provided for, to the minutest

points;

I do not doubt that whatever can possibly happen, any where, at any time, is provided for,

in

the inherences of things;

I do not think Life provides for all, and for Time and Space—but I believe Heavenly

Death