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side through the night, and withdraws at 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 bulge to the sun—they do not ask who seizes fast

I believe in those winged purposes, And acknowledge red, yellow, white, playing within me, And consider

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

murderer with haggard face and pinioned arms, The sheriff at hand with his deputies, the silent and white-lipped

the old response, Take what I have then, (saying fain,) take the pay you approached for, Take the white

I see not merely that you are polite or white-faced, married, single, citizens of old States, citizens

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

where men have not yet sailed— the farthest polar sea, ripply, crystalline, open, beyond the floes; White

tree-tops, Below, the red cedar, festooned 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

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

Remember what was promulged by the founders, rat- ified ratified by The States, signed in black and white

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

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

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

of their churches —I hear the responsive base and soprano, I hear the wail of utter despair of the white-haired

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

you white or black owners of slaves! You owned persons, dropping sweat-drops or blood- drops!

My children and grand-children—my white hair and beard, My largeness, calmness, majesty, out of the long

I am more than eighty years of age—my hair, too, is pure white—I am the most venerable mother; How clear

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!

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

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

some are such beautiful animals, so lofty looking; Some are buff-color'd, some mottled, one has a white

Sister of loftiest gods, Alboni's self I hear.) 4 I hear those odes, symphonies, operas, I hear in the William

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

and even to his head, he strikes out with courageous arms, he urges himself with his legs, I see his white

meas- ureless 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

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

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

sea-currents, the little islands, larger adjoining islands, the heights, the villas, The countless masts, the white

Bring down those tossed arms, and let your white hair be, Here gape your smart grand-sons—their wives

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

Behold this swarthy and unrefined face—these gray eyes, This beard—the white wool, unclipt upon my neck

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-sailed schooners, sloops, lighters! Flaunt away, flags of all nations!

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

golden, transparent haze of the warm afternoon sun; The aspiring lilac bushes with profuse purple or white

spasmic geyser- loops geyserloops ascending to the skies, appearing and disappearing, Nor Oregon's white

thy varied strange suggestions, (I see and plainly list thy talk and conference here,) Thy troops of white-maned

NOT alone those camps of white, old comrades of the wars, When as order'd forward, after a long march

Raise main-sail and jib—steer forth, O little white-hull'd sloop, now speed on really deep waters, (I

(My verses, written first for forenoon life, and for the summer's, autumn's spread, I pass to snow-white

is, Let it remain back there on its nail suspended, With pink, blue, yellow, all blanch'd, and the white

the old response, Take what I have then, (saying fain,) take the pay you approached for, Take the white

I see not merely that you are polite or white-faced, married, single, citizens of old States, citizens

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

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

and the bay of Biscay, The clear-sunn'd Mediterranean, and from one to another of its islands, The White

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

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

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

where men have not yet sail'd, the farthest polar sea, ripply, crystalline, open, 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

My children and grand-children, my white hair and beard, My largeness, calmness, majesty, out of the

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

Behold, the sea itself, And on its limitless, heaving breast, the ships; See, where their white sails

venerable and innocent joys, Perennial hardy life of me with joys 'mid rain and many a summer sun, And the white

you. 4 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

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

signs, I would sing your contest for the 19th Presidentiad, I would sing how an old man, tall, with white

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

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

AFTER the sea-ship, after the whistling winds, After the white-gray sails taut to their spars and ropes

the night, and withdraws at the peep of the day with stealthy tread, Leaving me baskets cover'd 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 bulge to the sun, they do not ask who seizes

I believe in those wing'd purposes, And acknowledge red, yellow, white, playing within me, And consider