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Selected and edited by William Michael Rossetti (Hotten.)
the stumpy bars of pig-iron, the strong, clean-shaped T-rail for railroads; Oil-works, silk-works, white-lead-works
What is that little black thing I see there in the white? Loud! loud! loud!
Winds blow south, or winds blow north, Day come white, or night come black, Home, or rivers and mountains
shadows, Recalling now the obscure shapes, the echoes, the sounds and sights after their sorts, The white
What is that little black thing I see there in the white? Loud! loud! loud!
Me and mine, loose windrows, little corpses, Froth, snowy white, and bubbles, (See, from my dead lips
In the night, in solitude, tears, On the white shore dripping, dripping, suck'd in by the sand, Tears
Winds blowsouth, or winds blow north, Day come white, or night come black, Home, or rivers and mountains
shadows, Recalling now the obscure shapes, the echoes, the sounds and sights after their sorts, The white
What is that little black thing I see there in the white? Loud! loud! loud!
Me and mine, loose windrows, little corpses, Froth, snowy white, and bubbles, (See, from my dead lips
In the night, in solitude, tears, On the white shore dripping, dripping, suck'd in by the sand, Tears
Winds blowsouth, or winds blow north, Day come white, or night come black, Home, or rivers and mountains
shadows, Recalling now the obscure shapes, the echoes, the sounds and sights after their sorts, The white
What is that little black thing I see there in the white? Loud! loud! loud!
Winds blow south, or winds blow north, Day come white, or night come black, Home, or rivers and mountains
shadows, Recalling now the obscure shapes, the echoes, the sounds and sights after their sorts, The white
What is that little black thing I see there in the white? Loud! loud! loud!
Winds blow South, or winds blow North, Day come white, or night come black, Home, or rivers and mountains
shadows, Recalling now the obscure shapes, the echoes, the sounds and sights after their sorts, The white
What is that little black thing I see there in the white? Loud! Loud! Loud I call to you my love!
Winds blow South, or winds blow North, Day come white, or night come black, Home, or rivers and mountains
shadows, Recalling now the obscure shapes, the echoes, the sounds and sights after their sorts, The white
What is that little black thing I see there in the white? Loud! loud! loud!
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
Let the white person tread the black person under his heel! (Say!
We, loose winrows, little corpses, Froth, snowy white, and bubbles, (See!
The early lilacs became part of this child, And grass, and white and red morning-glories, and white and
you white or black owners of slaves! You owned persons, dropping sweat-drops or blood- drops!
pass up or down, white-sailed schooners, sloops, lighters! Flaunt away, flags of all nations!
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.
his vulgar and profane hoofs among the delicate flowers which bloom there, and soiling the spotless white
I smell the white roses sweet-scented and growing.
Day come white, or night come black, Home, or rivers and mountains from home, Singing all time, minding