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Leaves of Grass (1860)
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38.
| PRIMEVAL my love for the woman I love, |
O bride ! O wife ! more resistless, more enduring
than I can tell, the thought of you !
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| Then separate, as disembodied, the purest born, |
| The ethereal, the last athletic reality, my consolation, |
| I ascend—I float in the regions of your love, O man, |
| O sharer of my roving life. |
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