The earth expanding right hand and left hand, The picture alive, every part in its best light, The music falling
in where it is wanted, and stopping where it is not wanted, The cheerful voice of the public road—the gay fresh
sentiment of the road.
O highway I travel! O public road! do you say to me, Do not leave me? Do you say, Venture
not? If you leave me, you are lost? Do you say, I am already prepared—I am well-beaten and undenied—adhere
to me?
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Walt Whitman
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