The past and present wilt—I have fill'd them, emptied them.
And proceed to fill my next fold of the future.
Listener up there! what have you to confide to me?
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Whitman reminds the reader that human nature (or himself) is not simple, but complex.(' I am large, / I contain multitudes) '.
I fountain multitudes also, they agree in disagreeing on a sunny day. Dare not look to whirled Black skies...