Whitman

1. Over sea, hither from Niphon, Courteous, the Princes of Asia, swart-cheeked princes, First-comers, guests, two-sworded princes, Lesson-giving princes, leaning back in their open barouches, bare-headed, impassive, This day they ride through Manhattan. 2. Libertad! I do not know whether others behold what I behold, In the procession, along with…

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Walt Whitman – Antecedents

1. With antecedents; With my fathers and mothers, and the accumulations of past ages: With all which, had it not been, I would not now be here, as I am; With Egypt, India, Phoenicia, Greece, and Rome; With the Kelt, the Scandinavian, the Alb, and the Saxon; With antique maritime…

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Walt Whitman – Song of the Broad-Axe

1. Weapon, shapely, naked, wan; Head from the mother’s bowels drawn! Wooded flesh and metal bone! limb only one, and lip only one! Grey-blue leaf by red-heat grown! helve produced from a little seed sown! Resting the grass amid and upon, To be leaned, and to lean on. Strong shapes,…

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Walt Whitman – Flux

Of these years I sing, How they pass through convulsed pains, as through parturitions; How America illustrates birth, gigantic youth, the promise, the sure fulfilment, despite of people—Illustrates evil as well as good; How many hold despairingly yet to the models departed, caste, myths, obedience, compulsion, and to infidelity; How…

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Walt Whitman – Years of the Unperformed

Years of the unperformed! your horizon rises—I see it part away for more august dramas; I see not America only—I see not only Liberty’s nation but other nations embattling; I see tremendous entrances and exits—I see new combinations—I see the solidarity of races; I see that force advancing with irresistible…

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Walt Whitman – The Past-Present

I was looking a long while for the history of the past for myself, and for these chants—and now I have found it. It is not in those paged fables in the libraries, (them I neither accept nor reject;) It is no more in the legends than in all else;…

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Walt Whitman – STARTING FROM PAUMANOK

1. Starting from fish-shape Paumanok,[1] where I was born, Well-begotten, and raised by a perfect mother; After roaming many lands—lover of populous pavements; Dweller in Mannahatta,[2] city of ships, my city,—or on southern savannas; Or a soldier camped, or carrying my knapsack and gun—or a miner in California; Or rude…

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Walt Whitman – To Working Men

1. Come closer to me; Push close, my lovers, and take the best I possess; Yield closer and closer, and give me the best you possess. This is unfinished business with me—How is it with you? (I was chilled with the cold types, cylinder, wet paper between us.) Male and…

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Walt Whitman – American Feuillage

AMERICA always! Always our own feuillage! Always Florida’s green peninsula! Always the priceless delta of Louisiana! Always the cotton-fields of Alabama and Texas! Always California’s golden hills and hollows—and the silver mountains of New Mexico! Always soft-breathed Cuba! Always the vast slope drained by the Southern Sea—inseparable with the slopes…

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Walt Whitman – Beat! Beat! Drums!

1. Beat! beat! drums!—Blow! bugles! blow! Through the windows—through doors—burst like a force of ruthless men, Into the solemn church, and scatter the congregation; Into the school where the scholar is studying: Leave not the bridegroom quiet—no happiness must he have now with his bride; Nor the peaceful farmer any…

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