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over six months ago we came across an edition of the Works of Walt Whitman, selected and edited by William
grey shirt, his iron grey hands, his swart sun-browned face and bare neck, he laid upon the brown and white
surrounding cloud that will not free my soul. 3 In the dooryard fronting an old farm-house near the white-wash'd
wheat, every grain from its shroud in the dark-brown fields uprisen, Passing the apple-tree blows of white
I saw battle-corpses, myriads of them, And the white skeletons of young men, I saw them, I saw the debris
surrounding cloud that will not free my soul. 3 In the dooryard fronting an old farm-house near the white-wash'd
wheat, every grain from its shroud in the dark-brown fields uprisen, Passing the apple-tree blows of white
I saw battle-corpses, myriads of them, And the white skeletons of young men, I saw them, I saw the debris
The sun just shines on her old white head. Her ample gown is of cream-hued linen.
simplicity of his nature are revealed in the following incident: "In the middle of the room in its white
In the dooryard fronting an old farmhouse near the white-wash'd palings, Stands the lilac-bush tall-growing
Winds blow south, or winds blow north, Day come white, or white come black, Home, or rivers and mountains
The early lilacs became part of this child, And grass, and white and red morning-glories, and white and
pass up or down, white-sail'd schooners, sloops, lighters! Flaunt away, flags of all nations!
What is that little black thing I see there in the white? Loud! loud! loud!
Let the white person tread the black person under his heel! (Say!
We, loose winrows, little corpses, Froth, snowy white, and bubbles, (See!
spread your white sails my little bark athwart the imperious waves, Chant on, sail on, bear o'er the
pass up or down, white-sail'd schooners, sloops, lighters! Flaunt away, flags of all nations!
What is that little black thing I see there in the white? Loud! loud! loud!
The early lilacs became part of this child, And grass and white and red morning-glories, and white and
Sister of loftiest gods, Alboni's self I hear.) 4 I hear those odes, symphonies, operas, I hear in the William
pass up or down, white-sail'd schooners, sloops, lighters! Flaunt away, flags of all nations!
What is that little black thing I see there in the white? Loud! loud! loud!
The early lilacs became part of this child, And grass and white and red morning-glories, and white and
Sister of loftiest gods, Alboni's self I hear.) 4 I hear those odes, symphonies, operas, I hear in the William
In calculating that decision, William O'Connor and Dr. Bucke are far more peremptory than I am.
Winds blow south, or winds blow north, Day come white, or white come black, Home, or rivers and mountains
grave, an ancient sorrowful mother, Once a queen, now lean and tattered, seated on the ground; Her old white
Abraham Lincoln, seeing him for the first time, from the East Room of the White House, as he passed slowly
new edition of the "Poems of Walt Whitman" (published by Chatto and Windus), selected and edited by William