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shirt collar flat and broad, countenance of swarthy transparent red, beard short and well mottled with white

He does not separate the learned from the unlearned, the northerner from the southerner, the white from

White endpapers.

I see his white body . . . .

white- blow white-blow and delirious juice, Bridegroom-night of love working surely and softly into the

The early lilacs became part of this child, And grass, and white and red morningglories, and white and

White endpapers.

White endpapers.

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!

The young men float on their backs, their white bellies swell to the sun . . . . they do not ask who

I shake my white locks at the runaway sun, I effuse my flesh in eddies and drift it in lacy jags.

I see his white body . . . .

white- blow white-blow and delirious juice, Bridegroom-night of love working surely and softly into the

The early lilacs became part of this child, And grass, and white and red morningglories, and white and

wildpigeon and highhold and orchard-oriole and coot and surf-duck and redshouldered-hawk and fish-hawk and white-ibis

Little or big, learned or unlearned, white or black, legal or illegal, sick or well, from the first inspiration

sleeps at my side all night and close on the peep of the day, And leaves for me baskets covered with white

And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones, Growing among black folks as among white

This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers, Darker than the colorless beards of

The young men float on their backs, their white bellies swell to the sun . . . . they do not ask who

I shake my white locks at the runaway sun, I effuse my flesh in eddies and drift it in lacy jags.

sum of all known value and respect I add up in you whoever you are; The President is up there in the White

All architecture is what you do to it when you look upon it; Did you think it was in the white or gray

fruitstand . . . . the beef on the butcher's stall, The bread and cakes in the bakery . . . . the white

The wretched features of ennuyees, the white features of corpses, the livid faces of drunkards, the sick-gray

and drinking, Laps life-swelling yolks . . . . laps ear of rose-corn, milky and just ripened: The white

I see his white body . . . .

with measureless love . . . . and the son holds the father in his arms with measureless love, The white

hair of the mother shines on the white wrist of the daughter, The breath of the boy goes with the breath

beauty of person; The shape of his head, the richness and breadth of his manners, the pale yellow and white

white- blow white-blow and delirious juice, Bridegroom-night of love working surely and softly into the

Examine these limbs, red black or white . . . . they are very cunning in tendon and nerve; They shall

unearthly cry, Its veins down the neck distend . . . . its eyes roll till they show nothing but their whites

Off the word I have spoken I except not one . . . . red white or black, all are deific, In each house

soiree, I heard what the run of poets were saying so long, Heard who sprang in crimson youth from the white

She sits in an armchair under the shaded porch of the farmhouse, The sun just shines on her old white

Bring down those tossed arms, and let your white hair be; Here gape your smart grandsons . . . . their

The early lilacs became part of this child, And grass, and white and red morningglories, and white and

sunset . . . . the river between, Shadows . . aureola and mist . . light falling on roofs and gables of white

have not yet sail'd—the farthest polar sea, ripply, crystalline, open, be- yond beyond the floes; White

tree tops, Below, the red cedar, festoon'd with tylandria—the pines and cypresses, growing out of the white

wind; The camp of Georgia wagoners, just after dark—the supper-fires, and the cooking and eating by whites

those of the grape; Welcome are lands of sugar and rice; Welcome the cotton-lands—welcome those of the white

, the falling in line, the rise and fall of the arms forcing the water, The slender, spasmic, blue-white

murderer with haggard face and pinion'd arms, The sheriff at hand with his deputies, the silent and white-lipp'd

bay to notice the arriving ships, Saw their approach, saw aboard those that were near me, Saw the white

serpentine pennants, The large and small steamers in motion, the pilots in their pilot-houses, The white

pass up or down, white-sail'd schooners, sloops, lighters! Flaunt away, flags of all nations!

Or white-domed Capitol itself, with majestic figure sur- mounted surmounted —or all the old high-spired

The sum of all known reverence I add up in you, whoever you are; The President is there in the White

All architecture is what you do to it when you look upon it; (Did you think it was in the white or gray

the stumpy bars of pig-iron, the strong, clean-shaped T-rail for railroads; Oil-works, silk-works, white-lead-works

The wretched features of ennuyés, the white features of corpses, the livid faces of drunkards, the sick

sweet eating and drinking, Laps life-swelling yolks—laps ear of rose-corn, milky and just ripen'd; The white

to his head—he strikes out with courageous arms—he urges him- self himself with his legs, I see his white

his arms with measureless love, and the son holds the father in his arms with measureless love, The white

hair of the mother shines on the white wrist of the daughter, The breath of the boy goes with the breath

Bring down those toss'd arms, and let your white hair be; Here gape your great grand-sons—their wives

I would sing how an old man, tall, with white hair, mounted the scaffold in Virginia; (I was at hand—silent

The early lilacs became part of this child, And grass, and white and red morning-glories, and white and

at sunset— the river between, Shadows, aureola and mist, the light falling on roofs and gables of white

The cactus, guarded with thorns—the laurel-tree, with large white flowers; The range afar—the richness

accoutrements—they buckle the straps carefully; Outdoors arming—indoors arming—the flash of the musket-barrels; The white

, I was refresh'd by the storm; I watch'd with joy the threatening maws of the waves; I mark'd the white

emerge on the opposite bank—others are just entering the ford—while, Scarlet, and blue, and snowy white

the single figure to me, Amid all teeming and wealthy Ohio, with all its cities and farms, Sickly white

bleeding to death, (he is shot in the abdomen;) I staunch the blood temporarily, (the youngster's face is white

The early lilacs became part of this child, And grass, and white and red morning-glories, and white and

sun- set sunset —the river between, Shadows, aureola and mist, light falling on roofs and gables of white

In the night, in solitude, tears; On the white shore dripping, dripping, suck'd in by the sand; Tears—not

O the huge sob—A few bubbles—the white foam spirting up—And then the women gone, Sinking there, while

the thick tangle, the openings, and the pink turf, Different colors, pale gray and green, purple, white

night, and withdraws at the peep of the day, with stealthy tread, Leaving me baskets cover'd with white

Growing among black folks as among white; Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same,

This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers; Darker than the colorless beards of

The young men float on their backs—their white bellies bulge to the sun—they do not ask who seizes fast

I depart as air—I shake my white locks at the run- away runaway sun; I effuse my flesh in eddies, and

beauty of person; The shape of his head, the richness and breadth of his manners, the pale yellow and white

swelling and deliciously aching; Limitless limpid jets of love hot and enormous, quivering jelly of love, white-blow

Examine these limbs, red, black, or white—they are so cunning in tendon and nerve; They shall be stript

hurry in and out, Not the air, delicious and dry, the air of the ripe summer, bears lightly along white

BEHOLD this swarthy face, this unrefined face—these gray eyes, This beard—the white wool, unclipt upon

of their churches—I hear the responsive base and soprano; I hear the wail of utter despair of the white-hair'd

and from one to an- other another of its islands, The inland fresh-tasted seas of North America, The White

The early lilacs became part of this child, And grass, and white and red morning-glories, and white and

sun- set sunset —the river between, Shadows, aureola and mist, light falling on roofs and gables of white

those of the grape; Welcome are lands of sugar and rice; Welcome the cotton-lands—welcome those of the white

fire-trumpets, the falling in line, the rise and fall of the arms forcing the water, The slender, spasmic blue-white

with hag- gard haggard face and pinion'd arms, The sheriff at hand with his deputies, the silent and white-lipp'd

bay to notice the arriving ships, Saw their approach, saw aboard those that were near me, Saw the white

serpentine pennants, The large and small steamers in motion, the pilots in their pilot-houses, The white

pass up or down, white-sail'd schooners, sloops, lighters! Flaunt away, flags of all nations!

Bring down those toss'd arms, and let your white hair be; Here gape your great grand-sons—their wives

Then to the third—a face nor child, nor old, very calm, as of beautiful yellow-white ivory; Young man

of the rifle balls; I see the shells exploding, leaving small white clouds— I hear the great shells shieking

again, this soil'd world: …For my enemy is dead—a man divine as myself is dead; I look where he lies, white-faced

and still, in the coffin —I draw near; I bend down, and touch lightly with my lips the white face in

the unearthly cry, Its veins down the neck distend, its eyes roll till they show nothing but their whites

Off the word I have spoken I except not one—red, white, black, are all deific; In each house is the ovum—it

Heard who sprang in crimson youth from the white froth and the water-blue. Behold a woman!

She sits in an arm-chair, under the shaded porch of the farm-house, The sun just shines on her old white

Let the white person again tread the black person under his heel! (Say!

little islands, larger ad- joining adjoining islands, the heights, the villas, The countless masts, the white

grave, an ancient sorrowful mother, Once a queen—now lean and tatter'd, seated on the ground, Her old white

on the cold ground, with forehead between your knees; O you need not sit there, veil'd in your old white

ah my woolly white and crim- son crimson ! Ah to sing the song of you, my matron mighty!

in toward land; The great steady wind from west and west-by-south, Floating so buoyant, with milk-white

(A Reminiscence of 1864.) 1 WHO are you, dusky woman, so ancient, hardly human, With your woolly-white