Whitman, as Printed

‹ Leaves of Grass, 1855

The lines with “a”

a 461 Back to A

  1. p. iii, line 11[…] rooms of the house . . . perceives that it waits a little while in the door . . . that it was fittest for […]
  2. p. iii, line 23[…] the day and night. Here is not merely a nation but a teeming nation of nations. Here is action untied from strings […]
  3. p. iii, line 56[…] their self-esteem and wonderful sympathy—their susceptibility to a slight—the air they have of persons who never knew […]
  4. p. iii, line 68[…] of nature or the nation were monstrous without a corresponding largeness and generosity of the spirit of the citizen […]
  5. p. iii, line 77[…] suffice the poet. No reminiscences may suffice either. A live nation can always cut a deep mark and can have the best authority the cheapest […]
  6. p. iv, line 5[…] America is the race of races. Of them a bard is to be commensurate with a people. To him […]
  7. p. iv, line 6[…] them a bard is to be commensurate with a people. To him the other continents arrive as contributions . . . he […]
  8. p. v, line 12[…] High up out of reach he stands turning a concentrated light . . . he turns the pivot with his finger . . . he […]
  9. p. v, line 21[…] judge judges but as the sun falling around a helpless thing. As he sees the farthest he has the […]
  10. p. v, line 26[…] he is silent. He sees eternity less like a play with a prologue and denouement . . . . he sees eternity in men and women […]
  11. p. v, line 35[…] the noblest expressive genius. The poet sees for a certainty how one not a great artist may be just […]
  12. p. v, line 36[…] poet sees for a certainty how one not a great artist may be just as sacred and perfect as […]
  13. p. v, line 47[…] or cunning or exclusiveness or the ignominy of a nativity or color or delusion of hell or the necessity […]
  14. p. v, line 54[…] grandeur and life of the universe. He is a seer . . . . he is individual . . . he is complete in himself . . . . the […]
  15. p. v, line 65[…] and foreruns the identities of the spiritual world. A single glance of it mocks all the investigations of man […]
  16. p. v, line 70[…] you have once just opened the space of a peachpit and given audience to far and near and to […]
  17. p. v, line 88[…] of the unfailing perception of beauty and of a residence of the poetic in outdoor people. They can never […]
  18. p. v, line 96[…] of rhyme is that it drops seeds of a sweeter and more luxuriant rhyme, and of uniformity that it […]
  19. p. v, line 102[…] unerringly and loosely as lilacs or roses on a bush, and take shapes as compact as the shapes of […]
  20. p. v, line 110[…] dependent. All beauty comes from beautiful blood and a beautiful brain. If the greatnesses are in conjunction in a […]
  21. p. v, line 111[…] brain. If the greatnesses are in conjunction in a man or woman it is enough . . . . the fact will prevail […]
  22. p. v, line 114[…] the universe . . . . but the gaggery and gilt of a million years will not prevail. Who troubles himself about his […]
  23. p. vi, line 14[…] own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in […]
  24. p. vi, line 35[…] with in the sight of the daybreak or a scene of the winter woods or the presence of children […]
  25. p. vi, line 37[…] or with his arm round the neck of a man or woman. His love above all love has leisure […]
  26. p. vi, line 61[…] is profuse and impartial . . . that there is not a minute of the light or dark nor an acre of […]
  27. p. vi, line 95[…] are for or what is beyond . . . . he glows a moment on the extremest verge. He is most wonderful in […]
  28. p. vii, line 17[…] shall contemplate him. The greatest poet has less a marked style and is more the channel of thoughts and […]
  29. p. vii, line 30[…] or portray shall go from my composition without a shred of my composition. You shall stand by my side […]
  30. p. vii, line 36[…] great poets will be proved by their unconstraint. A heroic person walks at his ease through and out of […]
  31. p. vii, line 120[…] it or educed out of it departs as a dream.What has ever happened . . . . what happens and whatever may […]
  32. p. viii, line 31[…] of no account. Whatever would put God in a poem or system of philosophy as contending against some being […]
  33. p. viii, line 69[…] knows no discouragement. The battle rages with many a loud alarm and frequent advance and retreat . . . . the enemy triumphs […]
  34. p. viii, line 99[…] over the word and deed that put back a helpless innocent person into the gripe of the gripers or […]
  35. p. viii, line 108[…] the judiciary or congress or the presidency, obtain a response of love and natural deference from the people whether […]
  36. p. viii, line 110[…] or no . . . . when it is better to be a bound booby and rogue in office at a high salary […]
  37. p. viii, line 112[…] a bound booby and rogue in office at a high salary than the poorest free mechanic or farmer with […]
  38. p. viii, line 115[…] unmoved from his head and firm eyes and a candid and generous heart . . . . and when servility by town or […]
  39. p. viii, line 117[…] or the federal government or any oppression on a largescale or small scale can be tried on without its […]
  40. p. ix, line 16[…] object or condition or combination or process exhibits a beauty . . . . the multiplication table its—old age its—the carpenter's […]
  41. p. ix, line 30[…] of the library is not he who holds a legal title to it having bought and paid for it […]
  42. p. ix, line 48[…] creates unearthly beings or places or contingencies is a nuisance and revolt. Of the human form especially it is […]
  43. p. ix, line 51[…] must never be made ridiculous. Of ornaments to a work nothing outre can be allowed . . but those ornaments can […]
  44. p. ix, line 66[…] justification of perfect personal candor. Then folks echo a new cheap joy and a divine voice leaping from their […]
  45. p. ix, line 68[…] Then folks echo a new cheap joy and a divine voice leaping from their brains: How beautiful is candor […]
  46. p. ix, line 75[…] that never since our earth gathered itself in a mass have deceit or subterfuge or prevarication attracted its smallest […]
  47. p. ix, line 77[…] its smallest particle or the faintest tinge of a shade—and that through the enveloping wealth and rank of […]
  48. p. ix, line 78[…] that through the enveloping wealth and rank of a state or the whole republic of states a sneak or […]
  49. p. ix, line 79[…] a state or the whole republic of states a sneak or sly person shall be discovered and despised . . . . and […]
  50. p. ix, line 83[…] the loving nod of the soul is only a fœtid puff . . . . and there never grew up in any of […]
  51. p. ix, line 92[…] in any process of formation or reformation anywhere, a being whose instinct hated the truth […]
  52. p. ix, line 97[…] children, large alimentiveness and destructiveness and causality, with a perfect sense of the oneness of nature and the propriety […]
  53. p. ix, line 108[…] well for himself and his family and completed a lawful life without debt or crime. The greatest poet sees […]
  54. p. x, line 4[…] and harvest of it. Beyond the independence of a little sum laid aside for burial-money, and of a few […]
  55. p. x, line 5[…] little sum laid aside for burial-money, and of a few clapboards around and shingles overhead on a lot of […]
  56. p. x, line 6[…] a few clapboards around and shingles overhead on a lot of American soil owned, and the easy dollars that […]
  57. p. x, line 9[…] the melancholy prudence of the abandonment of such a great being as a man is to the toss and pallor of years of […]
  58. p. x, line 18[…] sickness and desperate revolt at the close of a life without elevation or naivete, and the ghastly chatter of […]
  59. p. x, line 20[…] elevation or naivete, and the ghastly chatter of a death without serenity or majesty, is the great fraud upon […]
  60. p. x, line 32[…] What is wisdom that fills the thinness of a year or seventy or eighty years to wisdom spaced out […]
  61. p. x, line 34[…] spaced out by ages and coming back at a certain time with strong reinforcements and rich presents and the […]
  62. p. x, line 38[…] else has reference to what ensues. All that a person does or thinks is of consequence. Not a move […]
  63. p. x, line 39[…] person does or thinks is of consequence. Not a move can a man or woman make that affects him or her in […]
  64. p. x, line 40[…] woman make that affects him or her in a day or a month or any part of the direct […]
  65. p. x, line 41[…] affects him or her in a day or a month or any part of the direct lifetime or the […]
  66. p. x, line 70[…] the last expiration out of it, all that a male or female does that is vigorous and benevolent and […]
  67. p. x, line 88[…] life for the good old cause, or for a friend's sake or opinion's sake . . . all pains of enthusiasts scoffed […]
  68. p. xi, line 5[…] so backward without the farthest mentionable spot coming a bit nearer the beginning than any other spot. . . . . Whatever satisfies […]
  69. p. xi, line 65A great poem is for ages and ages in common and […]
  70. p. xi, line 67[…] complexions and all departments and sects and for a woman as much as a man and a man as much as a woman. A great poem is […]
  71. p. xi, line 69[…] a man and a man as much as a woman. A great poem is no finish to a man […]
  72. p. xi, line 70[…] and a man as much as a woman. A great poem is no finish to a man or woman […]
  73. p. xi, line 71[…] woman. A great poem is no finish to a man or woman but rather a beginning. Has any one fancied he could sit at last […]
  74. p. xi, line 86[…] one of the meanings. Now there shall be a man cohered out of tumult and chaos . . . . the elder encourages […]
  75. p. xi, line 93[…] work is done. They may wait awhile . . perhaps a generation or two . . dropping off by degrees. A superior breed […]
  76. p. xi, line 94[…] a generation or two . . dropping off by degrees. A superior breed shall take their place . . . . the gangs of kosmos […]
  77. p. xi, line 96[…] and prophets en masse shall take their place. A new order shall arise and they shall be the priests […]
  78. p. xi, line 113[…] and full enough. On the tough stock of a race who through all change of circumstance was never withoutthe […]
  79. p. xii, line 20[…] from the mouths of the people, it throbs a live interrogation in every freeman's and freewoman's heart after that […]
  80. p. xii, line 30[…] for any individual or nation that serves for a part of my materials. Does this answer? or is it […]
  81. p. xii, line 39[…] help breed one goodshaped and wellhung man, and a woman to be his perfect and independent mate? Does it […]
  82. p. xii, line 66[…] advance half-way. An individual is as superb as a nation when he has the qualities which make a superb […]
  83. p. xii, line 67[…] nation when he has the qualities which make a superb nation. The soul of the largest and wealthiest and […]
  84. p. xii, line 72[…] true the other is true. The proof of a poet is that his country absorbs him as affectionately as […]
  85. p. 13, line 5I lean and loafe at my ease . . . . observing a spear of summer grass.
  86. p. 13, line 9The atmosphere is not a perfume . . . . it has no taste of the distillation . . . . it is odorless,
  87. p. 13, line 18A few light kisses . . . . a few embraces . . . . a reaching around of arms,
  88. p. 14, line 1Have you reckoned a thousand acres much? Have you reckoned the earth much?
  89. p. 14, line 18Always a knit of identity . . . . always distinction . . . . always a breed of life.
  90. p. 14, line 21Stout as a horse, affectionate, haughty, electrical,
  91. p. 14, line 29Not an inch nor a particle of an inch is vile, and none shall be less familiar than the rest.
  92. p. 15, line 1As God comes a loving bedfellow and sleeps at my side all night and close on the peep of the day,
  93. p. 15, line 5And forthwith cipher and show me to a cent,
  94. p. 15, line 27I mind how we lay in June, such a transparent summer morning;
  95. p. 16, line 3And that a kelson of the creation is love;
  96. p. 16, line 7A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands;
  97. p. 16, line 11A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropped,
  98. p. 16, line 13Or I guess the grass is itself a child . . . . the produced babe of the vegetation.
  99. p. 16, line 14Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic,
  100. p. 17, line 28I lift the gauze and look a long time, and silently brush away flies with my hand.
  101. p. 18, line 25In the late afternoon choosing a safe spot to pass the night,
  102. p. 18, line 26Kindling a fire and broiling the freshkilled game,
  103. p. 18, line 31I tucked my trowser-ends in my boots and went and had a good time,
  104. p. 18, line 33I saw the marriage of the trapper in the open air in the far-west . . . . the bride was a red girl,
  105. p. 19, line 2On a bank lounged the trapper . . . . he was dressed mostly in skins . . . . his luxuriant beard and curls protected his neck,
  106. p. 19, line 8And went where he sat on a log, and led him in and assured him,
  107. p. 19, line 9And brought water and filled a tub for his sweated body and bruised feet,
  108. p. 19, line 10And gave him a room that entered from my own, and gave him some coarse clean clothes,
  109. p. 19, line 13He staid with me a week before he was recuperated and passed north,
  110. p. 20, line 6Each has his main-sledge . . . . they are all out . . . . there is a great heat in the fire.
  111. p. 21, line 8The press of my foot to the earth springs a hundred affections,
  112. p. 21, line 22The pilot seizes the king-pin, he heaves down with a strong arm,
  113. p. 21, line 27The farmer stops by the bars of a Sunday and looks at the oats and rye,
  114. p. 21, line 28The lunatic is carried at last to the asylum a confirmed case,
  115. p. 21, line 33What is removed drops horribly in a pail;
  116. p. 22, line 15The young sister holds out the skein, the elder sister winds it off in a ball and stops now and then for the knots,
  117. p. 22, line 16The one-year wife is recovering and happy, a week ago she bore her first child,
  118. p. 22, line 32The President holds a cabinet council, he is surrounded by the great secretaries,
  119. p. 23, line 23Maternal as well as paternal, a child as well as a man,
  120. p. 23, line 26A southerner soon as a northerner, a planter nonchalant and hospitable,
  121. p. 23, line 27A Yankee bound my own way . . . . ready for trade . . . . my joints the limberest joints on earth and the sternest joints on earth,
  122. p. 23, line 28A Kentuckian walking the vale of the Elkhorn in my deerskin leggings,
  123. p. 23, line 29A boatman over the lakes or bays or along coasts . . . . a Hoosier, a Badger, a Buckeye,
  124. p. 23, line 30A Louisianian or Georgian, a poke-easy from sandhills and pines,
  125. p. 24, line 2A learner with the simplest, a teacher of the thoughtfulest,
  126. p. 24, line 3A novice beginning experient of myriads of seasons,
  127. p. 24, line 5Not merely of the New World but of Africa Europe or Asia . . . . a wandering savage,
  128. p. 24, line 6A farmer, mechanic, or artist . . . . a gentleman, sailor, lover or quaker,
  129. p. 24, line 7A prisoner, fancy-man, rowdy, lawyer, physician or priest.
  130. p. 24, line 26This is the trill of a thousand clear cornets and scream of the octave flute and strike of triangles.
  131. p. 24, line 27I play not a march for victors only . . . . I play great marches for conquered and slain persons.
  132. p. 25, line 6I will not have a single person slighted or left away,
  133. p. 25, line 9This is the press of a bashful hand . . . . this is the float and odor of hair,
  134. p. 25, line 14Well I have . . . . for the April rain has, and the mica on the side of a rock has.
  135. p. 25, line 22What is a man anyhow? What am I? and what are you?
  136. p. 25, line 27That life is a suck and a sell, and nothing remains at the end but threadbare crape and tears.
  137. p. 26, line 1I have pried through the strata and analyzed to a hair,
  138. p. 26, line 3In all people I see myself, none more and not one a barleycorn less,
  139. p. 26, line 9I know this orbit of mine cannot be swept by a carpenter's compass,
  140. p. 26, line 10I know I shall not pass like a child's carlacue cut with a burnt stick at night.
  141. p. 26, line 27The first I graft and increase upon myself . . . . the latter I translate into a new tongue.
  142. p. 26, line 29And I say it is as great to be a woman as to be a man,
  143. p. 26, line 31I chant a new chant of dilation or pride,
  144. p. 27, line 2It is a trifle . . . . they will more than arrive there every one, and still pass on.
  145. p. 27, line 23We must have a turn together . . . . I undress . . . . hurry me out of sight of the land,
  146. p. 28, line 1Washes and razors for foofoos . . . . for me freckles and a bristling beard.
  147. p. 28, line 9Witnesses of us . . . . one side a balance and the antipodal side a balance,
  148. p. 28, line 14What behaved well in the past or behaves well today is not such a wonder,
  149. p. 28, line 15The wonder is always and always how there can be a mean man or an infidel.
  150. p. 28, line 17And mine a word of the modern . . . . a word en masse.
  151. p. 28, line 18A word of the faith that never balks,
  152. p. 28, line 20A word of reality . . . . materialism first and last imbueing.
  153. p. 28, line 23This is the lexicographer or chemist . . . . this made a grammar of the old cartouches,
  154. p. 28, line 25This is the geologist, and this works with the scalpel, and this is a mathematician.
  155. p. 29, line 3Walt Whitman, an American, one of the roughs, a kosmos,
  156. p. 29, line 29Seeing hearing and feeling are miracles, and each part and tag of me is a miracle.
  157. p. 30, line 23A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books.
  158. p. 31, line 21I think I will do nothing for a long time but listen,
  159. p. 31, line 24I hear the sound of the human voice . . . . a sound I love,
  160. p. 31, line 28The judge with hands tight to the desk, his shaky lips pronouncing a death-sentence,
  161. p. 32, line 7I hear the chorus . . . . it is a grand-opera . . . . this indeed is music!
  162. p. 32, line 8A tenor large and fresh as the creation fills me,
  163. p. 32, line 26Is this then a touch? . . . . quivering me to a new identity,
  164. p. 32, line 27Flames and ether making a rush for my veins,
  165. p. 32, line 33Depriving me of my best as for a purpose,
  166. p. 33, line 5Then all uniting to stand on a headland and worry me.
  167. p. 33, line 7They have left me helpless to a red marauder,
  168. p. 33, line 24What is less or more than a touch?
  169. p. 33, line 29A minute and a drop of me settle my brain;
  170. p. 33, line 31And a compend of compends is the meat of a man or woman,
  171. p. 33, line 32And a summit and flower there is the feeling they have for each other,
  172. p. 34, line 1I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journeywork of the stars,
  173. p. 34, line 2And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and the egg of the wren,
  174. p. 34, line 3And the tree-toad is a chef-d'ouvre for the highest,
  175. p. 34, line 7And a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels,
  176. p. 35, line 5A gigantic beauty of a stallion, fresh and responsive to my caresses,
  177. p. 35, line 10I but use you a moment and then I resign you stallion . . . . and do not need your paces, and outgallop them,
  178. p. 35, line 21Prospecting . . . . gold-digging . . . . girdling the trees of a new purchase,
  179. p. 35, line 23Where the panther walks to and fro on a limb overhead . . . . where the buck turns furiously at the hunter,
  180. p. 35, line 24Where the rattlesnake suns his flabby length on a rock . . . . where the otter is feeding on fish,
  181. p. 36, line 2Over the white and brown buckwheat, a hummer and a buzzer there with the rest,
  182. p. 36, line 18Where the ground-shark's fin cuts like a black chip out of the water,
  183. p. 36, line 23Under Niagara, the cataract falling like a veil over my countenance;
  184. p. 36, line 24Upon a door-step . . . . upon the horse-block of hard wood outside,
  185. p. 36, line 25Upon the race-course, or enjoying pic-nics or jigs or a good game of base-ball,
  186. p. 36, line 27At the cider-mill, tasting the sweet of the brown sqush . . . . sucking the juice through a straw,
  187. p. 37, line 2Where the herds of buffalo make a crawling spread of the square miles far and near;
  188. p. 37, line 5Where beehives range on a gray bench in the garden half-hid by the high weeds;
  189. p. 37, line 6Where the band-necked partridges roost in a ring on the ground with their heads out;
  190. p. 37, line 7Where burial coaches enter the arched gates of a cemetery;
  191. p. 37, line 25By the cot in the hospital reaching lemonade to a feverish patient,
  192. p. 37, line 26By the coffined corpse when all is still, examining with a candle;
  193. p. 37, line 30Solitary at midnight in my back yard, my thoughts gone from me a long while,
  194. p. 38, line 12I anchor my ship for a little while only,
  195. p. 38, line 14I go hunting polar furs and the seal . . . . leaping chasms with a pike-pointed staff . . . . clinging to topples of brittle and blue.
  196. p. 38, line 22I am a free companion . . . . I bivouac by invading watchfires.
  197. p. 39, line 3And chalked in large letters on a board, Be of good cheer, We will not desert you;
  198. p. 39, line 10The mother condemned for a witch and burnt with dry wood, and her children gazing on;
  199. p. 39, line 23My hurt turns livid upon me as I lean on a cane and observe.
  200. p. 40, line 16Hear now the the tale of a jetblack sunrise,
  201. p. 40, line 18Retreating they had formed in a hollow square with their baggage for breastworks,
  202. p. 40, line 23Matchless with a horse, a rifle, a song, a supper or a courtship,
  203. p. 40, line 26Not a single one over thirty years of age.
  204. p. 40, line 30Some made a mad and helpless rush . . . . some stood stark and straight,
  205. p. 40, line 31A few fell at once, shot in the temple or heart . . . . the living and dead lay together,
  206. p. 41, line 4A youth not seventeen years old seized his assassin till two more came to release him,
  207. p. 41, line 8And that was a jetblack sunrise.
  208. p. 41, line 19The master-at-arms loosing the prisoners confined in the after-hold to give them a chance for themselves.
  209. p. 42, line 3Not a moment's cease,
  210. p. 42, line 13The captain on the quarter deck coldly giving his orders through a countenance white as a sheet,
  211. p. 43, line 6Not a mutineer walks handcuffed to the jail, but I am handcuffed to him and walk by his side,
  212. p. 43, line 8Not a youngster is taken for larceny, but I go up too and am tried and sentenced.
  213. p. 43, line 9Not a cholera patient lies at the last gasp, but I also lie at the last gasp,
  214. p. 43, line 16Give me a little time beyond my cuffed head and slumbers and dreams and gaping,
  215. p. 43, line 17I discover myself on a verge of the usual mistake.
  216. p. 43, line 20That I could look with a separate look on my own crucifixion and bloody crowning!
  217. p. 44, line 23Behold I do not give lectures or a little charity,
  218. p. 45, line 3To a drudge of the cottonfields or emptier of privies I lean . . . . on his right cheek I put the family kiss,
  219. p. 45, line 26The most they offer for mankind and eternity less than a spirt of my own seminal wet,
  220. p. 45, line 30In my portfolio placing Manito loose, and Allah on a leaf, and the crucifix engraved,
  221. p. 45, line 32Honestly taking them all for what they are worth, and not a cent more,
  222. p. 46, line 3Discovering as much or more in a framer framing a house,
  223. p. 46, line 5Not objecting to special revelations . . . . considering a curl of smoke or a hair on the back of my hand as curious as any revelation;
  224. p. 46, line 10Three scythes at harvest whizzing in a row from three lusty angels with shirts bagged out at their waists;
  225. p. 46, line 19By my life-lumps! becoming already a creator!
  226. p. 46, line 21. . . . A call in the midst of the crowd,
  227. p. 47, line 13A few idly owning, and they the wheat continually claiming.
  228. p. 47, line 26My words are words of a questioning, and to indicate reality;
  229. p. 48, line 12Making a fetish of the first rock or stump . . . . powowing with sticks in the circle of obis,
  230. p. 48, line 14Dancing yet through the streets in a phallic procession . . . . rapt and austere in the woods, a gymnosophist,
  231. p. 48, line 18To the mass kneeling—to the puritan's prayer rising—sitting patiently in a pew,
  232. p. 48, line 23I turn and talk like a man leaving charges before a journey.
  233. p. 49, line 6Each who passes is considered, and each who stops is considered, and not a single one can it fail.
  234. p. 50, line 31Or while I swim in the bath . . . . or drink from the pump at the corner . . . . or the curtain is down at the opera . . . . or I glimpse at a woman's face in the railroad car;
  235. p. 51, line 12He joins with his partners a group of superior circuit,
  236. p. 51, line 15If I and you and the worlds and all beneath or upon their surfaces, and all the palpable life, were this moment reduced back to a pallid float, it would not avail in the long run,
  237. p. 51, line 18A few quadrillions of eras, a few octillions of cubic leagues, do not hazard the span, or make it impatient,
  238. p. 51, line 19They are but parts . . . . any thing is but a part.
  239. p. 51, line 24I tramp a perpetual journey,
  240. p. 51, line 25My signs are a rain-proof coat and good shoes and a staff cut from the woods;
  241. p. 51, line 28I lead no man to a dinner-table or library or exchange,
  242. p. 52, line 1But each man and each woman of you I lead upon a knoll,
  243. p. 52, line 3My right hand points to landscapes of continents, and a plain public road.
  244. p. 52, line 14This day before dawn I ascended a hill and looked at the crowded heaven,
  245. p. 52, line 25Long have you timidly waded, holding a plank by the shore,
  246. p. 52, line 26Now I will you to be a bold swimmer,
  247. p. 52, line 29He that by me spreads a wider breast than my own proves the width of my own,
  248. p. 53, line 1The boy I love, the same becomes a man not through derived power but in his own right,
  249. p. 53, line 4Unrequited love or a slight cutting him worse than a wound cuts,
  250. p. 53, line 5First rate to ride, to fight, to hit the bull's eye, to sail a skiff, to sing a song or play on the banjo,
  251. p. 53, line 10I do not say these things for a dollar, or to fill up the time while I wait for a boat;
  252. p. 53, line 13I swear I will never mention love or death inside a house,
  253. p. 53, line 16The nearest gnat is an explanation and a drop or the motion of waves a key,
  254. p. 53, line 27The girl and the wife rest the needle a moment and forget where they are,
  255. p. 53, line 32And whoever walks a furlong without sympathy walks to his own funeral, dressed in his shroud,
  256. p. 54, line 1And I or you pocketless of a dime may purchase the pick of the earth,
  257. p. 54, line 2And to glance with an eye or show a bean in its pod confounds the learning of all times,
  258. p. 54, line 3And there is no trade or employment but the young man following it may become a hero,
  259. p. 54, line 4And there is no object so soft but it makes a hub for the wheeled universe,
  260. p. 54, line 5And any man or woman shall stand cool and supercilious before a million universes.
  261. p. 55, line 7I do not know it . . . . it is without name . . . . it is a word unsaid,
  262. p. 55, line 18Talk honestly, for no one else hears you, and I stay only a minute longer.
  263. p. 55, line 27I too am not a bit tamed . . . . I too am untranslatable,
  264. p. 57, line 12A man like me, and never the usual terms.
  265. p. 57, line 13Neither a servant nor a master am I,
  266. p. 57, line 14I take no sooner a large price than a small price . . . . I will have my own whoever enjoys me,
  267. p. 57, line 16If you are a workman or workwoman I stand as nigh as the nighest that works in the same shop,
  268. p. 58, line 5If you see a good deal remarkable in me I see just as much remarkable in you.
  269. p. 58, line 9Because you are greasy or pimpled—or that you was once drunk, or a thief, or diseased, or rheumatic, or a prostitute—or are so now—or from frivolity or impotence—or that you are no scholar, and never saw your name in print . . . . do you give in that you are any less immortal?
  270. p. 58, line 14I see not merely that you are polite or whitefaced . . . . married or single . . . . citizens of old states or citizens of new states . . . . eminent in some profession . . . . a lady or gentleman in a parlor . . . . or dressed in the jail uniform . . . . or pulpit uniform,
  271. p. 59, line 2The naive . . . . the simple and hardy . . . . he going to the polls to vote . . . . he who has a good time, and he who has a bad time;
  272. p. 59, line 11It is not to be put in a book . . . . it is not in this book,
  273. p. 59, line 20And that the enclosing purport of us here is not a speculation, or bon-mot or reconnoissance,
  274. p. 59, line 21And that it is not something which by luck may turn out well for us, and without luck must be a failure for us,
  275. p. 59, line 22And not something which may yet be retracted in a certain contingency.
  276. p. 60, line 1Have you reckoned them as mainly for a trade or farmwork? or for the profits of a store? or to achieve yourself a position? or to fill a gentleman's leisure or a lady's leisure?
  277. p. 60, line 2Have you reckoned the landscape took substance and form that it might be painted in a picture?
  278. p. 60, line 10I rate them as high as the highest . . . . but a child born of a woman and man I rate beyond all rate.
  279. p. 61, line 7Can each see the signs of the best by a look in the lookingglass? Is there nothing greater or more?
  280. p. 63, line 8The snowplough and two engines pushing it . . . . the ride in the express train of only one car . . . . the swift go through a howling storm:
  281. p. 64, line 9When a university course convinces like a slumbering woman and child convince,
  282. p. 65, line 10Not a day passes . . not a minute or second without an accouchement;
  283. p. 65, line 11Not a day passes . . not a minute or second without a corpse.
  284. p. 66, line 2But without eyesight lingers a different living and looks curiously on the corpse.
  285. p. 66, line 7I see one building the house that serves him a few years . . . . or seventy or eighty years at most;
  286. p. 66, line 13A gray discouraged sky overhead . . . . the short last daylight of December,
  287. p. 66, line 14A hearse and stages . . . . other vehicles give place,
  288. p. 66, line 19The earth is swiftly shovelled in . . . . a minute . . no one moves or speaks . . . . it is done,
  289. p. 66, line 21He was a goodfellow,
  290. p. 66, line 23Witty, sensitive to a slight, ready with life or death for a friend,
  291. p. 66, line 25Had known what it was to be flush . . grew lowspirited toward the last . . sickened . . was helped by a contribution,
  292. p. 67, line 6The vulgar and the refined . . . . what you call sin and what you call goodness . . to think how wide a difference;
  293. p. 67, line 10Do you enjoy yourself in the city? or engaged in business? or planning a nomination and election? or with your wife and family?
  294. p. 68, line 24A zambo or a foreheadless Crowfoot or a Camanche is not nothing,
  295. p. 69, line 8We cannot be stopped at a given point . . . . that is no satisfaction;
  296. p. 69, line 9To show us a good thing or a few good things for a space of time—that is no satisfaction;
  297. p. 71, line 8I pass my hands soothingly to and fro a few inches from them;
  298. p. 71, line 15I am a dance . . . . Play up there! the fit is whirling me fast.
  299. p. 71, line 21I reckon I am their boss, and they make me a pet besides,
  300. p. 71, line 24Onward we move, a gay gang of blackguards with mirthshouting music and wild-flapping pennants of joy.
  301. p. 72, line 1I roll myself upon you as upon a bed . . . . I resign myself to the dusk.
  302. p. 72, line 18The cloth laps a first sweet eating and drinking,
  303. p. 72, line 25I sit low in a strawbottom chair and carefully darn my grandson's stockings.
  304. p. 72, line 28A shroud I see—and I am the shroud . . . . I wrap a body and lie in the coffin;
  305. p. 73, line 3I see a beautiful gigantic swimmer swimming naked through the eddies of the sea,
  306. p. 73, line 15Confused . . . . a pastreading . . . . another, but with darkness yet.
  307. p. 73, line 22In the morning I help pick up the dead and lay them in rows in a barn.
  308. p. 73, line 24Washington stands inside the lines . . he stands on the entrenched hills amid a crowd of officers,
  309. p. 74, line 5Of when she was a nearly grown girl living home with her parents on the old homestead.
  310. p. 74, line 6A red squaw came one breakfasttime to the old homestead,
  311. p. 74, line 7On her back she carried a bundle of rushes for rushbottoming chairs;
  312. p. 74, line 14She made her sit on a bench by the jamb of the fireplace . . . . she cooked food for her,
  313. p. 74, line 18All the week she thought of her . . . . she watched for her many a month,
  314. p. 74, line 19She remembered her many a winter and many a summer,
  315. p. 74, line 29A show of the summer softness . . . . a contact of something unseen . . . . an amour of the light and air;
  316. p. 77, line 5I will stop only a time with the night . . . . and rise betimes.
  317. p. 77, line 15The expression of a wellmade man appears not only in his face,
  318. p. 78, line 6Framers bare-armed framing a house . . hoisting the beams in their places . . or using the mallet and mortising-chisel,
  319. p. 78, line 10The female soothing a child . . . . the farmer's daughter in the garden or cowyard,
  320. p. 78, line 20I knew a man . . . . he was a common farmer . . . . he was the father of five sons . . . and in them were the fathers of sons . . . and in them were the fathers of sons.
  321. p. 79, line 3He was a frequent gunner and fisher . . . he sailed his boat himself . . . he had a fine one presented to him by a shipjoiner . . . . he had fowling-pieces, presented to him by men that loved him;
  322. p. 79, line 9To pass among them . . to touch any one . . . . to rest my arm ever so lightly round his or her neck for a moment . . . . what is this then?
  323. p. 79, line 10I do not ask any more delight . . . . I swim in it as in a sea.
  324. p. 79, line 14A divine nimbus exhales from it from head to foot,
  325. p. 79, line 16I am drawn by its breath as if I were no more than a helpless vapor . . . . all falls aside but myself and it,
  326. p. 80, line 5As I see my soul reflected in nature . . . . as I see through a mist one with inexpressible completeness and beauty . . . . see the bent head and arms folded over the breast . . . . the female I see,
  327. p. 80, line 16Is it a slave? Is it one of the dullfaced immigrants just landed on the wharf?
  328. p. 80, line 19All is a procession,
  329. p. 80, line 20The universe is a procession with measured and beautiful motion.
  330. p. 80, line 22Do you suppose you have a right to a good sight . . . and he or she has no right to a sight?
  331. p. 80, line 24A slave at auction!
  332. p. 81, line 20A woman at auction,
  333. p. 81, line 26Have you ever loved a woman?
  334. p. 82, line 4And the glory and sweet of a man is the token of manhood untainted,
  335. p. 82, line 5And in man or woman a clean strong firmfibred body is beautiful as the most beautiful face.
  336. p. 83, line 2The face as of a dream . . . . the face of an immobile rock,
  337. p. 83, line 3The face withdrawn of its good and bad . . a castrated face,
  338. p. 83, line 4A wild hawk . . his wings clipped by the clipper,
  339. p. 83, line 5A stallion that yielded at last to the thongs and knife of the gelder.
  340. p. 83, line 9This now is too lamentable a face for a man;
  341. p. 83, line 12This face is a dog's snout sniffing for garbage;
  342. p. 83, line 14This face is a haze more chill than the arctic sea,
  343. p. 83, line 16This is a face of bitter herbs . . . . this an emetic . . . . they need no label,
  344. p. 83, line 23And this is some murderer's knife with a halfpulled scabbard.
  345. p. 84, line 7And I shall look again in a score or two of ages,
  346. p. 84, line 14This face is a lifeboat;
  347. p. 84, line 17This face of a healthy honest boy is the programme of all good.
  348. p. 84, line 21In each house is the ovum . . . . it comes forth after a thousand years.
  349. p. 84, line 25This is a fullgrown lily's face,
  350. p. 85, line 7Behold a woman!
  351. p. 85, line 16A YOUNG man came to me with a message from his brother,
  352. p. 86, line 11A man is a summons and challenge,
  353. p. 87, line 2Then the mechanics take him for a mechanic,
  354. p. 87, line 3And the soldiers suppose him to be a captain . . . . and the sailors that he has followed the sea,
  355. p. 87, line 9A Jew to the Jew he seems . . . . a Russ to the Russ . . . . usual and near . . removed from none.
  356. p. 87, line 23O hope and faith! O aching close of lives! O many a sickened heart!
  357. p. 88, line 5For many a promise sworn by royal lips, And broken, and laughed at in the breaking,
  358. p. 88, line 10Yet behind all, lo, a Shape,
  359. p. 88, line 14One finger pointed high over the top, like the head of a snake appears.
  360. p. 88, line 24Not a grave of the murdered for freedom but grows seed for freedom . . . . in its turn to bear seed,
  361. p. 88, line 26Not a disembodied spirit can the weapons of tyrants let loose,
  362. p. 89, line 5Here's a good place at the corner . . . . I must stand and see the show.
  363. p. 89, line 9A fog follows . . . . antiques of the same come limping,
  364. p. 89, line 11Why this is a show! It has called the dead out of the earth,
  365. p. 89, line 28I will whisper it to the Mayor . . . . he shall send a committee to England,
  366. p. 89, line 29They shall get a grant from the Parliament, and go with a cart to the royal vault,
  367. p. 90, line 1Dig out King George's coffin . . . . unwrap him quick from the graveclothes . . . . box up his bones for a journey:
  368. p. 90, line 2Find a swift Yankee clipper . . . . here is freight for you blackbellied clipper,
  369. p. 90, line 6Here is a centrepiece for them:
  370. p. 90, line 9And clap the skull on top of the ribs, and clap a crown on top of the skull.
  371. p. 90, line 11Stick your hands in your pockets Jonathan . . . . you are a made man from this day,
  372. p. 90, line 13THERE was a child went forth every day,
  373. p. 90, line 15And that object became part of him for the day or a certain part of the day . . . . or for many years or stretching cycles of years.
  374. p. 91, line 7The mother with mild words . . . . clean her cap and gown . . . . a wholesome odor falling off her person and clothes as she walks by:
  375. p. 92, line 5It is no lesson . . . . it lets down the bars to a good lesson,
  376. p. 92, line 13It is no little matter, this round and delicious globe, moving so exactly in its orbit forever and ever, without one jolt or the untruth of a single second;
  377. p. 92, line 15Nor planned and built one thing after another, as an architect plans and builds a house.
  378. p. 92, line 16I do not think seventy years is the time of a man or woman,
  379. p. 92, line 17Nor that seventy millions of years is the time of a man or woman,
  380. p. 92, line 21And how I was not palpable once but am now . . . . and was born on the last day of May 1819 . . . . and passed from a babe in the creeping trance of three summers and three winters to articulate and walk . . . . are all equally wonderful.
  381. p. 92, line 22And that I grew six feet high . . . . and that I have become a man thirty-six years old in 1855 . . . . and that I am here anyhow—are all equally wonderful;
  382. p. 94, line 22Great is the English brood . . . . What brood has so vast a destiny as the English?
  383. p. 95, line 14Do you call that a paradox? It certainly is a paradox.