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Table of contents
- Loganberry Books: Solved Mysteries: M
- The Walt Whitman Archive
- Similar authors to follow
- My place to review books, movies, music, or whatever
How you sprang! Manhattan arming. How I love them! The blood of the city up—armed!
All the mutter of preparation—all the determined arming; The hospital service—the lint, bandages and medicines; The women volunteering for nurses—the work begun for,. Often in peace and wealth you were pensive, or covertly.
Loganberry Books: Solved Mysteries: M
Not you as some pale poetling, seated at a desk, lisping. Indiana, Rapidly crossing the West with springy gait, and descending. Long for my soul, hungering gymnastic, I devoured what. Niagara pouring; I traveled the prairies over, and slept on their breast—I. Heard the continuous thunder, as it bellowed after the. Now we advance our latent and ampler hunger to fill; Now we go forth to receive what the earth and the sea. What, to pavements and homesteads here—what were. What, to passions I witness around me to-day, was the. Was the wind piping the pipe of death under the black.
How it climbs with daring feet and hands!
The Walt Whitman Archive
How the true thunder bellows after the lightning! Yet a mournful wail and low sob I fancied I heard through. And do you rise higher than ever yet, O days, O cities! Crash heavier, heavier yet, O storms! America rise; Hence I will seek no more the food of the northern solitary. Would the talkers be talking? Would the lawyer rise in the court to state his case before.
- Wicked Sexy (Mills & Boon Blaze) (Uniformly Hot!, Book 51).
- The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark.
- Buzzin with Kindness?
Then rattle quicker, heavier, drums—you bugles wilder. And what does it say to me all the while? How envied by all the earth! I hear the drums beat, and the trumpets blowing; I myself move abroad, swift-rising, flying then; I use the wings of the land-bird, and use the wings of the. No longer let our children deem us riches and peace. Not now are we any one of these spacious and haughty States,. With passions of demons, slaughter, premature death?
Not houses of peace are you, nor any nor all their pros-. Not an hour, unless you,. O pennant! So loved! O you banner, leading the day, with stars. Valueless, object of eyes, over all and demanding all—O. I too leave the rest—great as it is, it is nothing—houses,. O banner so broad,. City of wharves and stores! Proud and passionate city! Spring up, O city!
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Fear not! Behold me! I have rejected nothing you offered me—whom you. One look I but gave, which your dear eyes returned with. Then onward I sped in the battle, the even-contested. Long there and then in vigil I stood, dimly around me.
But not a tear fell, not even a long-drawn sigh—Long,. O to hear the tramp, tramp, of a million answering men! O the ships they arm with joy! O to see you leap and beckon from the tall masts of.
- Crackpot.
- Poems.
- Splinters : How a Heart of Neglected Splinters Led to an Infectious Revenge - leondumoulin.nl!
O to see you peering down on the sailors on the decks! Flag like the eyes of women. We come to an open space in the woods, and halt by the. Who are you my dear comrade? Who are you, sweet boy, with cheeks yet blooming? Yet this sign left On a tablet scrawled and nailed on the tree by the grave,. Yet at times through changeful season and scene, abrupt,. What stays with you latest and deepest? Soldier alert I arrive, after a long march, covered with. Bearing the bandages, water and sponge, Straight and swift to my wounded I go, Where they lie on the ground, after the battle brought in; Where their priceless blood reddens the grass, the ground; Or to the rows of the hospital tent, or under the roofed.
I never. In mercy come quickly. Smell you the buckwheat, where the bees were lately. All swims before her eyes—flashes with black—she catches. But now of their faces and. The engagement opens there and then, in my busy brain. I hear the sounds of the different missiles—the short. All the scenes at the batteries rise in detail.
My place to review books, movies, music, or whatever
I should never tire; Give me a perfect child—give me, away, aside from the. O Nature, your primal sanities! Give me interminable eyes! Let me see new ones every day! Give me such shows!