Densities, growth, façades, strata of mountains, soils, rocks, giant trees, far-born, far-dying, living long, to leave, eidólons everlasting. Exalté, rapt, ecstatic, the visible but their womb of birth, of orbic tendencies to shape and shape and shape, the mighty earth-eidólon. All space, all time, (the stars, the terrible perturbations of the suns, swelling, collapsing, ending, serving their longer, shorter use,) fill'd with eidólons only. The noiseless myriads, the infinite oceans where the rivers empty, the separate countless free identities, like eyesight, the true realities, eidólons. Not this the world, nor these the universes, they the universes, purport and end, ever the permanent life of life, eidólons, eidólons.
Walt Whitman : Leaves of Grass › Inscriptions › Eidólons