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Walt Whitman : The World below the Brine

The world below the brine,
Forests at the bottom of the sea, and branches and
	leaves,
Sea-lettuce, vast lichens, strange flowers and seeds, the
	thick tangle, openings, and pink turf,
Different colors, pale gray and green, purple, white,
	and gold, the play of light through the
 	water,
Dumb swimmers there among the rocks, coral,
	gluten,1 grass, rushes, and the aliment of 
	the swimmers,
Sluggish existences grazing there suspended, or
	slowly crawling close to the bottom,
The sperm-whale at the surface blowing air and spray,
	or disporting with his flukes,2
The leaden-eyed shark, the walrus, the turtle, the
	hairy sea-leopard, and the sting-ray,
Passions there, wars, pursuits, tribes, sight in those
	ocean-depths, breathing that thick-
	breathing air, as so many do,
The change thence to the sight here, and to the
	subtle air breathed by beings like us who 
	walk this sphere,
The change onward from ours to that of beings who 
	walk other spheres. 

Walt Whitman (1819-1892)	WALT WHITMAN (1819-1892)	1860

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