I am too full of woe! Haply I may not live another day; I cannot rest, O God, I cannot eat or drink or sleep, Till I put forth myself, my prayer, once more to Thee, Breathe, bathe myself once more in Thee, commune with Thee, Report myself once more to Thee. Thou knowest my years entire, my life, My long and crowded life of active work, not adoration merely; Thou knowest the prayers and vigils of my youth, Thou knowest my manhood's solemn and visionary meditations, Thou knowest how before I commenced I devoted all to come to Thee, Thou knowest I have in age ratified all those vows and strictly kept them, Thou knowest I have not once lost nor faith nor ecstasy in Thee.... All my emprises have been fill'd with Thee, My speculations, plans, begun and carried on in thoughts of Thee, Sailing the deep or journeying the land for Thee; Intentions, purports, aspirations mine, leaving results to Thee. O I am sure they really came from Thee, The urge, the ardour, the unconquerable will, The potent, felt, interior command, stronger than words, A message from the Heavens whispering to me even in sleep, These sped me on.... What the end and result of all, he cannot tell--that is God's business; but he has felt the promise of freedom, religious joy and peace. The way itself has always been plain to him, lit by an ineffable, steady illumination, "lighting the very light". And now, lost in the unknown seas, he will again set forth, relinquishing the helm of choice; and though the vessel break asunder and his mind itself should fail, yet will his soul cling fast to the one sure thing; for though the waves of the unknown buffet his soul, "Thee, Thee, at least I know". * * * * * In the "Song of the Universal"--apparently delivered by proxy at the Commencement Exercises of Tuft's College, Massachusetts, midsummer, 1874[547]--Whitman reiterates his conviction that the Divine is at the heart of all and every life. The soul will at last emerge from evil and disease to justify its own history, to bring health out of disease, and joy out of sorrow and sin. Blessed are they who perceive and pursue this truth! It is to forward this wondrous discovery of the soul that America has, in the ripeness of time, arrived. The measured faiths of other lands, the grandeurs of the past, Are not for thee, but grandeurs of thine own, Deific faiths and amplitudes, absorbing, comprehending all, All eligible to all. All, all for immortality, Love like the light silently wrapping all, Nature's amelioration blessing all, The blossoms, fruits of ages, orchards divine and certain, Forms, objects, growths, humanities, to spiritual images ripening.