I hear and behold God in every object, yet understand God not in the least,
Nor do I understand who there can be more wonderful than myself.

In all people I see myself, none more and not one a barleycorn less,
And the good or bad I say of myself I say of them.
And I know I am solid and sound,
To me the converging objects of the universe perpetually flow,
All are written to me, and I must get what the writing means.
And I know I am deathless.
I know this orbit of mine cannot be swept by a carpenter's compass,
I know I shall not pass like a child's carlacue cut with a burnt stick at night.

I have said that the soul is not more than the body,
And I have said that the body is not more than the soul,
And nothing, not God, is greater to one than one's-self is,

Undrape! you are not guilty to me, nor stale nor discarded,
I see through the broadcloth and gingham whether or no,
And am around, tenacious, acquisitive, tireless, and cannot be shaken away.

Pleasured equally
In seeking as in finding,
Each detail minding,
Old Walt went seeking
And finding.

Argue not concerning God,…re-examine all that you have been told at church or school or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your soul…