Excerpt from The Rolling Earth: Outdoor Scenes and Thoughts From the Writings of Walt Whitman

After you have exhausted what there is in business, politics, conviviality, love, and so on - have found that none of these finally satisfy, or permanently wear - what remains? Nature remains; to bring out from their torpid recesses the affinities of a man or woman with the open air, the trees, fields, the changes of seasons - the sun by day and the stars of heaven by night.

Who knows, (I have it in my fancy, my ambition,) but the pages now ensuing may carry ray of sun, or smell of grass or corn, or call of bird, or gleam of stars by night, or snow-flakes falling fresh and mystic, to denizen of heated city house, or tired workman or workwoman? - or may-be in sick-room or prison - to serve as cooling breeze, or Nature's aroma, to some fever'd mouth or latent pulse.

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