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Leaves of Grass (1871-72)
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O ME! O LIFE!
O ME! O life!…of the questions of these recurring; |
Of the endless trains of the faithless—of cities fill'd with
the foolish;
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Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more
foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
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Of eyes that vainly crave the light—of the objects mean
—of the struggle ever renew'd;
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Of the poor results of all—of the plodding and sordid
crowds I see around me;
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Of the empty and useless years of the rest—with the
rest me intertwined;
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The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good
amid these, O me, O life?
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Answer.
That you are here—that life exists, and identity; |
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute
a verse.
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