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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 shrieking

WHO are you dusky woman, so ancient hardly human, With your woolly-white and turban'd head, and bare

WORLD take good notice, silver stars fading, Milky hue ript, weft of white detaching, Coals thirty-eight

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

Ah my silvery beauty—ah my woolly white and crimson! Ah to sing the song of you, my matron mighty!

surrounding cloud that will not free my soul. 3 In the dooryard fronting an old farm-house near the white-wash'd

wheat, every grain from its shroud in the dark-brown fields uprisen, Passing the apple-tree blows of white

I saw battle-corpses, myriads of them, And the white skeletons of young men, I saw them, I saw the debris

light-green sheath, Gather the hay to its myriad mows in the odorous tranquil barns, Oats to their bins, the 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

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

Or white-domed capitol with majestic figure surmounted, or all the old high-spired cathedrals, That little

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

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

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

For shame old maniacs—bring down those toss'd arms, and let your white hair be, Here gape your great

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

BEHOLD this swarthy face, these gray eyes, This beard, the white wool unclipt upon my neck, My brown

buckle the straps carefully, Outdoors arming, indoors arming, the flash of the musket-barrels, The white

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

man was of wonderful vigor, calmness, beauty of person, The shape of his head, 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 cunning in tendon and nerve, They shall be stript

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

BEHOLD this swarthy face, these gray eyes, This beard, the white wool unclipt upon my neck, My brown

spread your white sails my little bark athwart the imperious waves, Chant on, sail on, bear o'er the

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

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

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

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

manner which, if irony were not a mode rather foreign to him, we should consider ironical, that "William

William O'Connor and Dr.

We have no concern with William O'Connor and Dr. Bucke. If we have concern with Mr.

wants something newer and better than the old poetry, and that his poetry is not an achievement (William

All this is granted by us, or rather spontaneously asserted, and if William O'Connor and Dr.

Whiting W. I. Whiting to Walt Whitman, 14 June 1886

Whiting Care Scammell Bros WI Whiting W. I. Whiting to Walt Whitman, 18 October 1886

See the letter from Whiting to Whitman of June 14, 1886, listing prices obtained at auction for a Whitman

Hale White Walt Whitman Esq: W. Hale White to Walt Whitman, 23 October 1882

Hale White Whitman Esq THE GENIUS OF WALT WHITMAN.

Hale White to Walt Whitman, 21 March 1880

William Hale White (1831–1913) was a British writer and civil servant who sometimes published under the

unfortunate polar bear is always present, which is strangely in keeping with his long-flowing, silky white

Whitman told the historian William Roscoe Thayer, "I've always had the knack of attracting birds and

Rechel-White, "Holmes, Oliver Wendell (1809–1894)," (Walt Whitman: An Encyclopedia, eds. J.R.

White, Ex-President of Cornell University wrote: "I have long believed that such schools are among the

the closed-up sutures in my cranium were opened as widely as if the brains were out, and a pint of white

London: William Heinemann, 1893. Stovall, Floyd. The Foreground of "Leaves of Grass".

Born in Buffalo, New York, she married William Keller in 1858 and was widowed seven years later.

See also William J.

Morehouse, and William W.

William A.

Blodgett, Arthur Golden, and William White, eds. “Clus- ter Arrangements in Leaves of Grass.”

Williams, William Carlos. “An Essay on Leaves of Grass.”

That's what Talcott Williams says. He was here today with Mrs. Williams."

"Some kind words from my friend William Carey there—William Carey.

William mentions you.

Affectionately,William D.

Talcott Williams over today.

The volume was the result of some correspondence between William and Mrs. Pott.

William resented the Emperor piece. Why?