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by the indolent waves, I am exposed, cut by bitter and poisoned hail Steeped amid honeyed morphine , my
darkness Our vessel riddled and slowly sinking—preparations to pass to the one we had conquered— The captain
last yawp, which (the review) you were frank enough to print in your last issue, emboldens me to speak my
Last Winter I got on skates, my first appearance before an icy audience for fifteen years.
U. is the poet of my concern, her suggestion to that effect was a strong point in favor of Mr.
s fondness for poetry doesn't at all interfere with the clearness of my café noir, the lightness of my
with my lordly prerogative.
I loafe and invite my Soul, I lean and loafe at my ease, observing a spear of summer grass.
The smoke of my own breath, Echoes, ripples, buzzed whispers, love-root, silk-thread, crotch and vine
, My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the passing of blood and air through my lungs
The sound of the belched words of my voice, words loosed to the eddies of the wind, A few light kisses
Our poet goes on to say (105): I know I am august, I do not trouble my spirit to vindicate itself or
since, after the closest inquiry, "I find no sweeter fat than sticks to my own bones."
If I worship any particular thing, it shall be some the spread of my own body."
As for Mine, Mine has the idea of my own, and what's Mine is my own, and my own is all Mine and believes
in your and my name, the Present time. 6.
I lie in the night air in my red shirt—the pervading hush is for my sake, Painless after all I lie, exhausted
thereof—and no less in myself than the whole of the Mannahatta in itself, Singing the song of These, my
ever united lands—my body no more inevitably united, part to part, and made one identity, any more than
my lands are inevitably united, and made one identity, Nativities, climates, the grass of the great
I know perfectly well my own egotism. . . .
I will put in my poems, that with you is heroism, upon land and sea. . . .
On my way a moment I pause, Here for you! And here for America!
of my own, And that all the men ever born are also my brothers, and the women my sisters and lovers,
Earth of the limpid gray of clouds, brighter and clear- er clearer for my sake!
They look at me, and my eyes start out of my head; they speak to me, and I yell with de- light delight
; they touch me, and the flesh crawls off my bones.
heaven, it bears me beyond the stars, I tread upon the air, I sail upon the ether, I spread myself my
O my soul! O your soul, which is no better than my soul, and no worse, but just the same!
O my eye! 1247. These things are not in Webster's Dictionary— Unabridged, Pictorial.
I rubbed my eyes a little to see if this sunbeam were no illusion; but the solid sense of the book is
I wish to see my benefactor, and have felt much like striking my tasks and visiting New York to pay you
my respects.
more foolish than the rest of the volume:— "I too am not a bit tamed—I too am untranslatable, I sound my
The last scud of day holds back for me, It flings my likeness, after the rest, and true as any, on the
I depart as air—I shake my white locks at the run-away sun, I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it
Bent to the very earth, here preceding what follows, Terrified with myself that I have dared to open my
whose echoes recoil upon me, I have not once had the least idea who or what I am, But that before all my
And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me!
I could not shut my eyes to their wild, rough beauty nor close my soul to the truths they expressed.
I write simply to express my unqualified disgust with the portions I have read.
because, being a woman, and having read the uncharitable and bitter attacks upon the book, I wish to give my
There are few poems which I can read with so intense a thrill of exultation at the greatness of my destiny
To prepare for sleep, for bed—to look on my rose-coloured flesh, To be conscious of my body, so amorous
Have you learned the physiology, phrenology, politics, geography, pride, freedom, friendship, of my land
Earth of the limpid grey of clouds, brighter and clearer for my sake! Far-swooping elbowed Earth!
death with the dying, and birth with the new-washed new- washed babe, and am not contained between my
hat and my boots.
I know perfectly well my own egotism.
strong in the knees, and of an inquiring and communicative disposi- tion disposition Also instructive in my
O truth of things, I am determined to press my way toward you; Sound your voice!
I exclude you; Not till the waters refuse to glisten for you, and the leaves to rustle for you, do my
Bent to the very earth, here preceding what follows, Terrified with myself that I have dared to open my
echoes re- coil recoil upon me, I have not once had the least idea who or what I am, But that before all my
to be found in these prurient pages and how any respectable House could publish the volume is beyond my
Cycles ferried my cradle, rowing and rowing like cheerful boatmen, For room to me stars kept aside in
All forces have been steadily employed to complete and delight me: Now I stand on this spot with my Soul
If I worship any particular thing, it shall be some of the spread of my own body."—p. 55.
If I worship any particular thing, it shall be some of the spread of my own body."—p. 55.
their dead songs about dead Europe, and its stupid monks and priests, its chivalry, and its thing a-my-bobs