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One Williams College copy has a blank copyright page; two other copies, now at the University of Virginia
White notes by way of context that "the scrapbook was used by Whitman to keep clippings from newspapers
In research for a short article describing the discovery, William White determined that the document
White also identified the "Mr.
White, William. "More About the 'Publication' of the First American Literature 28.4 (1957): 516–17.
Information about bindings has been supplemented by a transcription and explanation of this statement in White
White, 353. Whitman varied in his reports of how many copies were printed.
White, William. "The First (1855) 'Leaves of Grass': How Many Copies?"
William F.
William E.
William Michael Rossetti W. B.
William F. Channing William D. O'Connor Ellen M.
William B.
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, Bend down and touch lightly with my lips the white face in the
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, Bend down and touch lightly with my lips the white face in the
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
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
piercing and pealing, Waves, air, midnight, their savagest trinity lashing, Out in the shadows there milk-white
wending, Steadily, slowly, through hoarse roar never remitting, Along the midnight edge by those milk-white
piercing and pealing, Waves, air, midnight, their savagest trinity lashing, Out in the shadows there milk-white
wending, Steadily, slowly, through hoarse roar never remitting, Along the midnight edge by those milk-white
grave an ancient sorrowful mother, Once a queen, now lean and tatter'd seated on the ground, Her old white
cold ground with fore- head forehead between your knees, O you need not sit there veil'd in your old white
grave an ancient sorrowful mother, Once a queen, now lean and tatter'd seated on the ground, Her old white
cold ground with fore- head forehead between your knees, O you need not sit there veil'd in your old 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
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
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
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 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
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 early lilacs became part of this child, And grass, and white and red morning-glories, and white and
afar at sunset— the river between, Shadows, aureola and mist, light falling on roofs and gables of white
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
waves—In such, Or some lone bark, buoy'd on the dense marine, Where, joyous, full of faith, spreading white
spread your white sails, my little bark, athwart the imperious waves!
imperious waves, Or some lone bark buoy'd on the dense marine, Where joyous full of faith, spreading white
spread your white sails my little bark athwart the imperious waves, Chant on, sail on, bear o'er the
imperious waves, Or some lone bark buoy'd on the dense marine, Where joyous full of faith, spreading white
spread your white sails my little bark athwart the imperious waves, Chant on, sail on, bear o'er the
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
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
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
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
soiree, I heard what the singers were singing 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
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
soiree, I heard what the singers were singing so long, Heard who sprang in crimson youth from the white
She sits in an arm-chair, under the shaded porch of the farm-house, The sun just shines on her old white
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
soiree, I heard what the singers were singing 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
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
soiree, I heard what the singers were singing so long, Heard who sprang in crimson youth from the white
She sits in an arm-chair, under the shaded porch of the farm-house, The sun just shines on her old white
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, all are deific, In each house is the
soiree, I heard what the singers were singing so long, Heard who sprang in crimson youth from the white
She sits in an arm-chair, under the shaded porch of the farm-house, The sun just shines on her old white
Debris 10 ONE sweeps by, old, with black eyes, and profuse white hair, He has the simple magnificence
WORLD, take good notice, silver stars fading, Milky hue ript, weft of white detaching, Coals thirty-eight
WORLD take good notice, silver stars fading, Milky hue ript, weft of white detaching, Coals thirty-eight
WORLD take good notice, silver stars fading, Milky hue ript, weft of white detaching, Coals thirty-eight
WORLD, take good notice, silver stars fading, Milky hue ript, weft of white detaching, Coals thirty-six
golden, transparent haze of the warm afternoon sun; The aspiring lilac bushes with profuse purple or white
Fast as she can she hurries—something ominous— her steps trembling; She does not tarry to smooth her white
the single figure to me, Amid all teeming and wealthy Ohio, with all its cities and farms, Sickly white
shall see how I stump clergymen, and confound them, You shall see me showing a scarlet tomato, and a white
BEHOLD this swarthy face—these gray eyes, This beard—the white wool, unclipt upon my neck, My brown hands
BEHOLD this swarthy face, these gray eyes, This beard, the white wool unclipt upon my neck, My brown
BEHOLD this swarthy face, these gray eyes, This beard, the white wool unclipt upon my neck, My brown
emerge on the opposite bank—others are just entering the ford—while, Scarlet, and blue, and snowy white
Some emerge on the opposite bank, others are just entering the ford—while, Scarlet and blue and snowy white
Ah my silvery beauty—ah my woolly white and crimson! Ah to sing the song of you, my matron mighty!
Ah my silvery beauty—ah my woolly white and crimson! Ah to sing the song of you, my matron mighty!
Some emerge on the opposite bank, others are just entering the ford—while, Scarlet and blue and snowy white
BEHOLD this swarthy face, this unrefined face—these gray eyes, This beard—the white wool, unclipt upon
ah my woolly white and crim- son crimson ! Ah to sing the song of you, my matron mighty!
Raise main-sail and jib—steer forth, O little white-hull'd sloop, now speed on really deep waters, (I
Behold this swarthy and unrefined face—these gray eyes, This beard—the white wool, unclipt upon my neck