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Contents > Author > Walt Whitman > Quicksand Years 1819- 1892
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Walt Whitman
Quicksand Years
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Quicksand years that whirl me I know not whither,
Your schemes, politics, fail, lines give way, substances mock and elude me,
Only the theme I sing, the great and strong-possess?d soul, eludes not,
One?s-self must never give way ? that is the final substance ? that out of all is sure,
Out of politics, triumphs, battles, life, what at last finally remains?
When shows break up what but One?s-Self is sure?
 

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