Whitman, as Printed

‹ Leaves of Grass, 1855

The lines with “in”

in 563 Back to I

  1. p. iii, line 11[…] house . . . perceives that it waits a little while in the door . . . that it was fittest for its days . . . that […]
  2. p. iii, line 18[…] United States themselves are essentially the greatest poem. In the history of the earth hitherto the largest and most […]
  3. p. iii, line 21[…] largeness and stir. Here at last is something in the doings of man that corresponds with the broadcast doings […]
  4. p. iii, line 26[…] necessarily blind to particulars and details magnificently moving in vast masses. Here is the hospitality which forever indicates heroes […]
  5. p. iii, line 31[…] loves. Here the performance disdaining the trivial unapproached in the tremendous audacity of its crowds and groupings and the […]
  6. p. iii, line 40Other states indicate themselves in their deputies . . . . but the genius of the United States is […]
  7. p. iii, line 42[…] the United States is not best or most in its executives or legislatures, nor in its ambassadors or authors or colleges or churches or parlors […]
  8. p. iii, line 44[…] or colleges or churches or parlors, nor even in its newspapers or inventors . . . but always most in the common […]
  9. p. iii, line 45[…] in its newspapers or inventors . . . but always most in the common people. Their manners speech dress friendships—the freshness […]
  10. p. iii, line 57[…] who never knew how it felt to stand in the presence of superiors—the fluency of their speech—their […]
  11. p. iii, line 59[…] superiors—the fluency of their speech—their delight in music, the sure symptom of manly tenderness and native elegance […]
  12. p. iii, line 88[…] continent by discovery and what has transpired since in North and South America were less than the small theatre […]
  13. p. iv, line 37[…] and icicles hanging from the boughs and crackling in the wind . . . . and sides and peaks of mountains . . . . and pasturage […]
  14. p. iv, line 99[…] the great poet is the equable man. Not in him but off from him things are grotesque or eccentric […]
  15. p. iv, line 101[…] out of its place is good and nothing in its place is bad. He bestows on every object or […]
  16. p. v, line 3[…] far off . . . the stars not too far off. In war he is the most deadly force of the war […]
  17. p. v, line 9[…] every word he speaks draw blood. Whatever stagnates in the flat of custom or obedience or legislation he never […]
  18. p. v, line 24[…] are the hymns of the praise of things. In the talk on the soul and eternity and God off […]
  19. p. v, line 27[…] with a prologue and denouement . . . . he sees eternity in men and women . . . he does not see men and women […]
  20. p. v, line 55[…] a seer . . . . he is individual . . . he is complete in himself . . . . the others are as good as he, only he […]
  21. p. v, line 90[…] beauty and of a residence of the poetic in outdoor people. They can never be assisted by poets to […]
  22. p. v, line 92[…] never can. The poetic quality is not marshalled in rhyme or uniformity or abstract addresses to things nor in […]
  23. p. v, line 94[…] or uniformity or abstract addresses to things nor in melancholy complaints or good precepts, but is the life of […]
  24. p. v, line 95[…] life of these and much else and is in the soul. The profit of rhyme is that it drops […]
  25. p. v, line 98[…] that it conveys itself into its own roots in the ground out of sight. The rhyme and uniformity of […]
  26. p. v, line 111[…] and a beautiful brain. If the greatnesses are in conjunction in a man or woman it is enough . . . . the fact will […]
  27. p. vi, line 10[…] with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your […]
  28. p. vi, line 12[…] have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your […]
  29. p. vi, line 15[…] poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between […]
  30. p. vi, line 17[…] and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body. . . . . . . . The poet shall […]
  31. p. vi, line 18[…] body. . . . . . . . The poet shall not spend his time in unneeded work. He shall know that the ground is always […]
  32. p. vi, line 34[…] or from the highest he is rapport with in the sight of the daybreak or a scene of the […]
  33. p. vi, line 45[…] jealousy and envy are corpses buried and rotten in the earth . . . . he saw them buried. The sea is not […]
  34. p. vi, line 56[…] with man. To these respond perfections not only in the committees that were supposed to stand for the rest […]
  35. p. vi, line 57[…] were supposed to stand for the rest but in the rest themselves just the same. These understand the law […]
  36. p. vi, line 58[…] the same. These understand the law of perfection in masses and floods . . . that its finish is to each for […]
  37. p. vi, line 70[…] powerful organ . . . the pleasure of poems is not in them that take the handsomest measure and similes and sound […]
  38. p. vi, line 72Without effort and without exposing in the least how it is done the greatest poet brings […]
  39. p. vi, line 97[…] on the extremest verge. He is most wonderful in his last half-hidden smile or frown . . . by that flash of […]
  40. p. vi, line 103[…] The soul has that measureless pride which consists in never acknowledging any lessons but its own. But it has […]
  41. p. vi, line 106[…] neither can stretch too far while it stretches in company with the other. The inmost secrets of art sleep […]
  42. p. vi, line 109[…] lain close betwixt both and they are vital in his style and thoughts […]
  43. p. vii, line 4[…] neither common nor very uncommon. But to speak in literature with the perfect rectitude and insousiance of the movements […]
  44. p. vii, line 7[…] and the unimpeachableness of the sentiment of trees in the woods and grass by the roadside is the flawless […]
  45. p. vii, line 22[…] will not be meddlesome, I will not have in my writing any elegance or effect or originality to hang […]
  46. p. vii, line 23[…] any elegance or effect or originality to hang in the way between me and the rest like curtains. I […]
  47. p. vii, line 25[…] rest like curtains. I will have nothing hang in the way, not the richest curtains. What I tell I […]
  48. p. vii, line 34[…] You shall stand by my side and look in the mirror with me […]
  49. p. vii, line 42[…] than silent defiance advancing from new free forms. In the need of poems philosophy politics mechanism science behaviour, the […]
  50. p. vii, line 65[…] and hate and love? It is that something in the soul which says, Rage on, Whirl on, I tread […]
  51. p. vii, line 109[…] the poet and the man of demonstrable science. In the beauty of poems are the tuft and final applause […]
  52. p. viii, line 5[…] retarded . . . . any miracle of affairs or persons inadmissible in the vast clear scheme where every motion and every spear […]
  53. p. viii, line 10[…] all referring to all and each distinct and in its place. It is also not consistent with the reality […]
  54. p. viii, line 12[…] the soul to admit that there is anything in the known universe more divine than men and women […]
  55. p. viii, line 31[…] is of no account. Whatever would put God in a poem or system of philosophy as contending against some […]
  56. p. viii, line 34[…] Sanity and ensemble characterise the great master . . . spoilt in one principle all is spoilt. The great master has nothing […]
  57. p. viii, line 37[…] do with miracles. He sees health for himself in being one of the mass . . . . he sees the hiatus in […]
  58. p. viii, line 38[…] one of the mass . . . . he sees the hiatus in singular eminence. To the perfect shape comes common ground. To […]
  59. p. viii, line 46In the make of the great masters the idea of political […]
  60. p. viii, line 67[…] upon itself, invites no one, promises nothing, sits in calmness and light, is positive and composed, and knows no […]
  61. p. viii, line 83[…] the large names of patriots are laughed at in the public halls from the lips of the orators . . . . when […]
  62. p. viii, line 95[…] the sight of slaves . . . . when the soul retires in the cool communion of the night and surveys its experience […]
  63. p. viii, line 101[…] gripers or into any cruel inferiority . . . . when those in all parts of these states who could easier realize the […]
  64. p. viii, line 112[…] better to be a bound booby and rogue in office at a high salary than the poorest free mechanic […]
  65. p. ix, line 2[…] on without its own punishment following duly after in exact proportion against the smallest chance of escape . . . . or rather […]
  66. p. ix, line 9[…] attributes of the poets of the kosmos concentre in the real body and soul and in the pleasure of things they possess the superiority of genuineness […]
  67. p. ix, line 33[…] varieties of tongues and subjects and styles, and in whom they enter with ease and take residence and force […]
  68. p. ix, line 39[…] of natural models and must not permit them. In paintings or mouldings or carvings in mineral or wood, or […]
  69. p. ix, line 40[…] permit them. In paintings or mouldings or carvings in mineral or wood, or in the illustrations of books or […]
  70. p. ix, line 41[…] mouldings or carvings in mineral or wood, or in the illustrations of books or newspapers, or in any comic […]
  71. p. ix, line 42[…] in the illustrations of books or newspapers, or in any comic or tragic prints, or in the patterns of woven stuffs or any thing to beautify […]
  72. p. ix, line 57[…] most beautiful without ornament. . . Exaggerations will be revenged in human physiology. Clean and vigorous children are jetted and conceived […]
  73. p. ix, line 59[…] and vigorous children are jetted and conceived only in those communities where the models of natural forms are public […]
  74. p. ix, line 65[…] are also to be known by the absence in them of tricks and by the justification of perfect personal […]
  75. p. ix, line 75[…] and that never since our earth gathered itself in a mass have deceit or subterfuge or prevarication attracted its […]
  76. p. ix, line 83[…] a fœtid puff . . . . and there never grew up in any of the continents of the globe nor upon any […]
  77. p. ix, line 85[…] satellite or star, nor upon the asteroids, nor in any part of ethereal space, nor in the midst of […]
  78. p. ix, line 86[…] nor in any part of ethereal space, nor in the midst of density, nor under the fluid wet of […]
  79. p. ix, line 87[…] under the fluid wet of the sea, nor in that condition which precedes the birth of babes, nor at […]
  80. p. ix, line 89[…] any time during the changes of life, nor in that condition that follows what we term death, nor in […]
  81. p. ix, line 90[…] condition that follows what we term death, nor in any stretch of abeyance or action afterward of vitality, nor […]
  82. p. ix, line 91[…] of abeyance or action afterward of vitality, nor in any process of formation or reformation anywhere, a being whose […]
  83. p. x, line 17[…] men you pass or have to do with in youth or middle age, and the issuing sickness and desperate […]
  84. p. x, line 36[…] of wedding-guests as far as you can look in every direction running gaily toward you? Only the soul is […]
  85. p. x, line 40[…] or woman make that affects him or her in a day or a month or any part of the […]
  86. p. x, line 61[…] is duly realized and returned, and that returned in further performances . . . and they returned again. Nor can the push […]
  87. p. x, line 66[…] necessary . . to add or subtract or divide is in vain. Little or big, learned or unlearned, white or black […]
  88. p. x, line 72[…] so much sure profit to him or her in the unshakable order of the universe and through the whole […]
  89. p. x, line 92[…] precious suffering of mothers . . . all honest men baffled in strifes recorded or unrecorded . . . . all the grandeur and good of […]
  90. p. xi, line 20[…] his life and retains it to old age in riches and ease has perhaps achieved nothing for himself worth […]
  91. p. xi, line 27[…] and waiting to meet him again—and who in his spirit in any emergency whatever neither hurries or avoids death […]
  92. p. xi, line 40[…] rises up from its inconceivable vagueness and infiniteness in the swimming shape of today, and is held by the […]
  93. p. xi, line 46[…] beautiful children of the wave—let him merge in the general run and wait his developement. . . . . . . . Still the final […]
  94. p. xi, line 54[…] points be satisfactory now? Has no new discovery in science or arrival at superior planes of thought and judgment […]
  95. p. xi, line 65A great poem is for ages and ages in common and for all degrees and complexions and all departments […]
  96. p. xi, line 78[…] fatness and ease. The touch of him tells in action. Whom he takes he takes with firm sure grasp […]
  97. p. xi, line 103[…] events and things. They shall find their inspiration in real objects today, symptoms of the past and future . . . . They […]
  98. p. xi, line 108[…] and reality of the soul. They shall arise in America and be responded to from the remainder of the […]
  99. p. xii, line 21[…] of the people, it throbs a live interrogation in every freeman's and freewoman's heart after that which passes by […]
  100. p. xii, line 61[…] the erudite . . they are not unappreciated . . they fall in their place and do their work. The soul of the […]
  101. p. 13, line 10It is for my mouth forever . . . . I am in love with it,
  102. p. 13, line 12I am mad for it to be in contact with me.
  103. p. 13, line 16The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore and darkcolored sea-rocks, and of hay in the barn,
  104. p. 13, line 20The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields and hillsides,
  105. p. 14, line 6You shall no longer take things at second or third hand . . . . nor look through the eyes of the dead . . . . nor feed on the spectres in books,
  106. p. 14, line 20Sure as the most certain sure . . . . plumb in the uprights, well entretied, braced in the beams,
  107. p. 14, line 25Till that becomes unseen and receives proof in its turn.
  108. p. 15, line 8People I meet . . . . . the effect upon me of my early life . . . . of the ward and city I live in . . . . of the nation,
  109. p. 15, line 19Both in and out of the game, and watching and wondering at it.
  110. p. 15, line 20Backward I see in my own days where I sweated through fog with linguists and contenders,
  111. p. 15, line 22I believe in you my soul . . . . the other I am must not abase itself to you,
  112. p. 15, line 27I mind how we lay in June, such a transparent summer morning;
  113. p. 16, line 4And limitless are leaves stiff or drooping in the fields,
  114. p. 16, line 5And brown ants in the little wells beneath them,
  115. p. 16, line 12Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we may see and remark, and say Whose?
  116. p. 16, line 15And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones,
  117. p. 17, line 27The little one sleeps in its cradle,
  118. p. 18, line 10What groans of overfed or half-starved who fall on the flags sunstruck or in fits,
  119. p. 18, line 23Alone far in the wilds and mountains I hunt,
  120. p. 18, line 25In the late afternoon choosing a safe spot to pass the night,
  121. p. 18, line 31I tucked my trowser-ends in my boots and went and had a good time,
  122. p. 18, line 33I saw the marriage of the trapper in the open air in the far-west . . . . the bride was a red girl,
  123. p. 19, line 2On a bank lounged the trapper . . . . he was dressed mostly in skins . . . . his luxuriant beard and curls protected his neck,
  124. p. 19, line 8And went where he sat on a log, and led him in and assured him,
  125. p. 19, line 14I had him sit next me at table . . . . my firelock leaned in the corner.
  126. p. 19, line 23You splash in the water there, yet stay stock still in your room.
  127. p. 20, line 3The butcher-boy puts off his killing-clothes, or sharpens his knife at the stall in the market,
  128. p. 20, line 6Each has his main-sledge . . . . they are all out . . . . there is a great heat in the fire.
  129. p. 20, line 10They do not hasten, each man hits in his place.
  130. p. 20, line 18In me the caresser of life wherever moving . . . . backward as well as forward slueing,
  131. p. 20, line 20Oxen that rattle the yoke or halt in the shade, what is that you express in your eyes?
  132. p. 20, line 21It seems to me more than all the print I have read in my life.
  133. p. 20, line 24. . . . I believe in those winged purposes,
  134. p. 20, line 28And the mockingbird in the swamp never studied the gamut, yet trills pretty well to me,
  135. p. 21, line 7I see in them and myself the same old law.
  136. p. 21, line 13I can eat and sleep with them week in and week out.
  137. p. 21, line 15Me going in for my chances, spending for vast returns,
  138. p. 21, line 19The pure contralto sings in the organloft,
  139. p. 21, line 23The mate stands braced in the whaleboat, lance and harpoon are ready,
  140. p. 21, line 29He will never sleep any more as he did in the cot in his mother's bedroom;
  141. p. 21, line 33What is removed drops horribly in a pail;
  142. p. 22, line 2The half-breed straps on his light boots to compete in the race,
  143. p. 22, line 6The woollypates hoe in the sugarfield, the overseer views them from his saddle;
  144. p. 22, line 7The bugle calls in the ballroom, the gentlemen run for their partners, the dancers bow to each other;
  145. p. 22, line 8The youth lies awake in the cedar-roofed garret and harks to the musical rain,
  146. p. 22, line 12The squaw wrapt in her yellow-hemmed cloth is offering moccasins and beadbags for sale,
  147. 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,
  148. p. 22, line 17The cleanhaired Yankee girl works with her sewing-machine or in the factory or mill,
  149. p. 22, line 18The nine months' gone is in the parturition chamber, her faintness and pains are advancing;
  150. p. 23, line 2The crew of the fish-smack pack repeated layers of halibut in the hold,
  151. p. 23, line 6In single file each shouldering his hod pass onward the laborers;
  152. p. 23, line 8Seasons pursuing each other the plougher ploughs and the mower mows and the wintergrain falls in the ground;
  153. p. 23, line 9Off on the lakes the pikefisher watches and waits by the hole in the frozen surface,
  154. p. 23, line 13The torches shine in the dark that hangs on the Chattahoochee or Altamahaw;
  155. p. 23, line 15In walls of abode, in canvass tents, rest hunters and trappers after their day's sport.
  156. p. 23, line 28A Kentuckian walking the vale of the Elkhorn in my deerskin leggings,
  157. p. 23, line 31At home on Canadian snowshoes or up in the bush, or with fishermen off Newfoundland,
  158. p. 23, line 32At home in the fleet of iceboats, sailing with the rest and tacking,
  159. p. 23, line 33At home on the hills of Vermont or in the woods of Maine or the Texan ranch,
  160. p. 24, line 10And am not stuck up, and am in my place.
  161. p. 24, line 11The moth and the fisheggs are in their place,
  162. p. 24, line 12The suns I see and the suns I cannot see are in their place,
  163. p. 24, line 13The palpable is in its place and the impalpable is in its place.
  164. p. 24, line 14These are the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands, they are not original with me,
  165. p. 24, line 29I also say it is good to fall . . . . battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won.
  166. p. 25, line 2Vivas to those who have failed, and to those whose war-vessels sank in the sea, and those themselves who sank in the sea,
  167. p. 25, line 18This hour I tell things in confidence,
  168. p. 26, line 3In all people I see myself, none more and not one a barleycorn less,
  169. p. 26, line 16If no other in the world be aware I sit content,
  170. p. 26, line 19And whether I come to my own today or in ten thousand or ten million years,
  171. p. 26, line 21My foothold is tenoned and mortised in granite,
  172. p. 27, line 24Cushion me soft . . . . rock me in billowy drowse,
  173. p. 27, line 32Extoler of amies and those that sleep in each others' arms.
  174. p. 27, line 34Shall I make my list of things in the house and skip the house that supports them?
  175. p. 28, line 14What behaved well in the past or behaves well today is not such a wonder,
  176. p. 29, line 21Of fog in the air and beetles rolling balls of dung.
  177. p. 29, line 28I believe in the flesh and the appetites,
  178. p. 30, line 15Broad muscular fields, branches of liveoak, loving lounger in my winding paths, it shall be you,
  179. p. 31, line 2We found our own my soul in the calm and cool of the daybreak.
  180. p. 31, line 10Waiting in gloom protected by frost,
  181. p. 31, line 14Happiness . . . . which whoever hears me let him or her set out in search of this day.
  182. p. 31, line 19I carry the plenum of proof and every thing else in my face,
  183. p. 32, line 16Steeped amid honeyed morphine . . . . my windpipe squeezed in the fakes of death,
  184. p. 32, line 19To be in any form, what is that?
  185. p. 33, line 12You villain touch! what are you doing? . . . . my breath is tight in its throat;
  186. p. 33, line 20All truths wait in all things,
  187. p. 34, line 5And the narrowest hinge in my hand puts to scorn all machinery,
  188. p. 34, line 13In vain the speeding or shyness,
  189. p. 34, line 14In vain the plutonic rocks send their old heat against my approach,
  190. p. 34, line 15In vain the mastadon retreats beneath its own powdered bones,
  191. p. 34, line 16In vain objects stand leagues off and assume manifold shapes,
  192. p. 34, line 17In vain the ocean settling in hollows and the great monsters lying low,
  193. p. 34, line 18In vain the buzzard houses herself with the sky,
  194. p. 34, line 19In vain the snake slides through the creepers and logs,
  195. p. 34, line 20In vain the elk takes to the inner passes of the woods,
  196. p. 34, line 21In vain the razorbilled auk sails far north to Labrador,
  197. p. 34, line 22I follow quickly . . . . I ascend to the nest in the fissure of the cliff.
  198. p. 34, line 26They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,
  199. p. 34, line 32They bring me tokens of myself . . . . they evince them plainly in their possession.
  200. p. 35, line 6Head high in the forehead and wide between the ears,
  201. p. 35, line 14What I guessed while I lay alone in my bed . . . . and again as I walked the beach under the paling stars of the morning.
  202. p. 35, line 15My ties and ballasts leave me . . . . I travel . . . . I sail . . . . my elbows rest in the sea-gaps,
  203. p. 35, line 18By the city's quadrangular houses . . . . in log-huts, or camping with lumbermen,
  204. p. 35, line 20Hoeing my onion-patch, and rows of carrots and parsnips . . . . crossing savannas . . . trailing in forests,
  205. p. 35, line 25Where the alligator in his tough pimples sleeps by the bayou,
  206. p. 35, line 27Over the growing sugar . . . . over the cottonplant . . . . over the rice in its low moist field;
  207. p. 36, line 3Over the dusky green of the rye as it ripples and shades in the breeze;
  208. p. 36, line 5Walking the path worn in the grass and beat through the leaves of the brush;
  209. p. 36, line 7Where the bat flies in the July eve . . . . where the great goldbug drops through the dark;
  210. p. 36, line 11Where the cheese-cloth hangs in the kitchen, and andirons straddle the hearth-slab, and cobwebs fall in festoons from the rafters;
  211. p. 36, line 14Where the pear-shaped balloon is floating aloft . . . . floating in it myself and looking composedly down;
  212. p. 36, line 15Where the life-car is drawn on the slipnoose . . . . where the heat hatches pale-green eggs in the dented sand,
  213. p. 36, line 31Where the hay-rick stands in the barnyard, and the dry-stalks are scattered, and the brood cow waits in the hovel,
  214. p. 37, line 5Where beehives range on a gray bench in the garden half-hid by the high weeds;
  215. p. 37, line 6Where the band-necked partridges roost in a ring on the ground with their heads out;
  216. p. 37, line 20Looking in at the shop-windows in Broadway the whole forenoon . . . . pressing the flesh of my nose to the thick plate-glass,
  217. p. 37, line 22My right and left arms round the sides of two friends and I in the middle;
  218. p. 37, line 25By the cot in the hospital reaching lemonade to a feverish patient,
  219. p. 37, line 29Hot toward one I hate, ready in my madness to knife him;
  220. p. 37, line 30Solitary at midnight in my back yard, my thoughts gone from me a long while,
  221. p. 38, line 2Carrying the crescent child that carries its own full mother in its belly;
  222. p. 38, line 15I ascend to the foretruck . . . . I take my place late at night in the crow's nest . . . . we sail through the arctic sea . . . . it is plenty light enough,
  223. p. 38, line 17The enormous masses of ice pass me and I pass them . . . . the scenery is plain in all directions,
  224. p. 38, line 18The white-topped mountains point up in the distance . . . . I fling out my fancies toward them;
  225. p. 38, line 19We are about approaching some great battlefield in which we are soon to be engaged,
  226. p. 39, line 3And chalked in large letters on a board, Be of good cheer, We will not desert you;
  227. p. 39, line 11The hounded slave that flags in the race and leans by the fence, blowing and covered with sweat,
  228. p. 39, line 24I am the mashed fireman with breastbone broken . . . . tumbling walls buried me in their debris,
  229. p. 39, line 28I lie in the night air in my red shirt . . . . the pervading hush is for my sake,
  230. p. 40, line 11The whizz of limbs heads stone wood and iron high in the air.
  231. p. 40, line 17Hear of the murder in cold blood of four hundred and twelve young men.
  232. p. 40, line 18Retreating they had formed in a hollow square with their baggage for breastworks,
  233. p. 40, line 19Nine hundred lives out of the surrounding enemy's nine times their number was the price they took in advance,
  234. p. 40, line 25Bearded, sunburnt, dressed in the free costume of hunters,
  235. p. 40, line 27The second Sunday morning they were brought out in squads and massacred . . . . it was beautiful early summer,
  236. p. 40, line 31A few fell at once, shot in the temple or heart . . . . the living and dead lay together,
  237. p. 41, line 1The maimed and mangled dug in the dirt . . . . the new-comers saw them there;
  238. p. 41, line 9Did you read in the seabooks of the oldfashioned frigate-fight?
  239. p. 41, line 11Our foe was no skulk in his ship, I tell you,
  240. p. 41, line 19The master-at-arms loosing the prisoners confined in the after-hold to give them a chance for themselves.
  241. p. 41, line 25Only three guns were in use,
  242. p. 42, line 9Toward twelve at night, there in the beams of the moon they surrendered to us.
  243. p. 42, line 14Near by the corpse of the child that served in the cabin,
  244. p. 42, line 21Delicate sniffs of the seabreeze . . . . smells of sedgy grass and fields by the shore . . . death-messages given in charge to survivors,
  245. p. 43, line 2And see myself in prison shaped like another man,
  246. p. 43, line 5It is I let out in the morning and barred at night.
  247. p. 43, line 11Askers embody themselves in me, and I am embodied in them,
  248. p. 43, line 28The blossoms we wear in our hats are the growth of two thousand years.
  249. p. 44, line 14They descend in new forms from the tips of his fingers,
  250. p. 44, line 21And might tell what it is in me and what it is in you, but cannot,
  251. p. 44, line 25You there, impotent, loose in the knees, open your scarfed chops till I blow grit within you,
  252. p. 45, line 4And in my soul I swear I never will deny him.
  253. p. 45, line 18And when you rise in the morning you will find what I tell you is so.
  254. p. 45, line 30In my portfolio placing Manito loose, and Allah on a leaf, and the crucifix engraved,
  255. p. 46, line 2Accepting the rough deific sketches to fill out better in myself . . . . bestowing them freely on each man and woman I see,
  256. p. 46, line 3Discovering as much or more in a framer framing a house,
  257. p. 46, line 10Three scythes at harvest whizzing in a row from three lusty angels with shirts bagged out at their waists;
  258. p. 46, line 13What was strewn in the amplest strewing the square rod about me, and not filling the square rod then;
  259. p. 46, line 21. . . . A call in the midst of the crowd,
  260. p. 47, line 11Tickets buying or taking or selling, but in to the feast never once going;
  261. p. 47, line 18They who piddle and patter here in collars and tailed coats . . . . I am aware who they are . . . . and that they are not worms or fleas,
  262. p. 47, line 22Every thought that flounders in me the same flounders in them.
  263. p. 48, line 1The well-taken photographs . . . . but your wife or friend close and solid in your arms?
  264. p. 48, line 5The saints and sages in history . . . . but you yourself?
  265. p. 48, line 12Making a fetish of the first rock or stump . . . . powowing with sticks in the circle of obis,
  266. p. 48, line 14Dancing yet through the streets in a phallic procession . . . . rapt and austere in the woods, a gymnosophist,
  267. p. 48, line 18To the mass kneeling—to the puritan's prayer rising—sitting patiently in a pew,
  268. p. 48, line 19Ranting and frothing in my insane crisis—waiting dead-like till my spirit arouses me;
  269. p. 49, line 9Nor the little child that peeped in at the door and then drew back and was never seen again,
  270. p. 49, line 11Nor him in the poorhouse tubercled by rum and the bad disorder,
  271. p. 49, line 13Nor the sacs merely floating with open mouths for food to slip in,
  272. p. 49, line 14Nor any thing in the earth, or down in the oldest graves of the earth,
  273. p. 49, line 15Nor any thing in the myriads of spheres, nor one of the myriads of myriads that inhabit them,
  274. p. 49, line 20Eternity lies in bottomless reservoirs . . . . its buckets are rising forever and ever,
  275. p. 50, line 17For room to me stars kept aside in their own rings,
  276. p. 50, line 22Monstrous sauroids transported it in their mouths and deposited it with care.
  277. p. 50, line 27Crowding my lips, and thick in the pores of my skin,
  278. 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;
  279. 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,
  280. p. 51, line 26No friend of mine takes his ease in my chair,
  281. p. 52, line 12And in due time you shall repay the same service to me;
  282. p. 52, line 15And I said to my spirit, When we become the enfolders of those orbs and the pleasure and knowledge of every thing in them, shall we be filled and satisfied then?
  283. p. 52, line 21But as soon as you sleep and renew yourself in sweet clothes I will certainly kiss you with my goodbye kiss and open the gate for your egress hence.
  284. p. 52, line 27To jump off in the midst of the sea, and rise again and nod to me and shout, and laughingly dash with your hair.
  285. p. 53, line 1The boy I love, the same becomes a man not through derived power but in his own right,
  286. p. 53, line 12It was tied in your mouth . . . . in mine it begins to be loosened.
  287. p. 53, line 14And I swear I never will translate myself at all, only to him or her who privately stays with me in the open air.
  288. p. 53, line 22The farmboy ploughing in the field feels good at the sound of my voice,
  289. p. 53, line 23In vessels that sail my words must sail . . . . I go with fishermen and seamen, and love them,
  290. p. 53, line 24My face rubs to the hunter's face when he lies down alone in his blanket,
  291. p. 53, line 32And whoever walks a furlong without sympathy walks to his own funeral, dressed in his shroud,
  292. p. 54, line 2And to glance with an eye or show a bean in its pod confounds the learning of all times,
  293. p. 54, line 9I hear and behold God in every object, yet I understand God not in the least,
  294. p. 54, line 13In the faces of men and women I see God, and in my own face in the glass;
  295. p. 54, line 14I find letters from God dropped in the street, and every one is signed by God's name,
  296. p. 54, line 27Of the turbid pool that lies in the autumn forest,
  297. p. 54, line 29Toss, sparkles of day and dusk . . . . toss on the black stems that decay in the muck,
  298. p. 55, line 4There is that in me . . . . I do not know what it is . . . . but I know it is in me.
  299. p. 55, line 8It is not in any dictionary or utterance or symbol.
  300. p. 55, line 17Look in my face while I snuff the sidle of evening,
  301. p. 56, line 4I effuse my flesh in eddies and drift it in lacy jags.
  302. p. 57, line 16If you are a workman or workwoman I stand as nigh as the nighest that works in the same shop,
  303. p. 58, line 4If you meet some stranger in the street and love him or her, do I not often meet strangers in the street and love them?
  304. p. 58, line 5If you see a good deal remarkable in me I see just as much remarkable in you.
  305. 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?
  306. 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,
  307. p. 58, line 16Iroquois eating the warflesh—fishtearer in his lair of rocks and sand . . . . Esquimaux in the dark cold snowhouse . . . . Chinese with his transverse eyes . . . . Bedowee—or wandering nomad—or tabounschik at the head of his droves,
  308. p. 59, line 11It is not to be put in a book . . . . it is not in this book,
  309. p. 59, line 14You may read in many languages and read nothing about it;
  310. p. 59, line 16Nothing in the reports from the state department or treasury department . . . . or in the daily papers, or the weekly papers,
  311. p. 59, line 17Or in the census returns or assessors' returns or prices current or any accounts of stock.
  312. p. 59, line 18The sun and stars that float in the open air . . . . the appleshaped earth and we upon it . . . . surely the drift of them is something grand;
  313. p. 59, line 22And not something which may yet be retracted in a certain contingency.
  314. p. 59, line 24The wonder every one sees in every one else he sees . . . . and the wonders that fill each minute of time forever and each acre of surface and space forever,
  315. p. 60, line 2Have you reckoned the landscape took substance and form that it might be painted in a picture?
  316. p. 60, line 6Or the stars to be put in constellations and named fancy names?
  317. p. 60, line 8Old institutions . . . . these arts libraries legends collections—and the practice handed along in manufactures . . . . will we rate them so high?
  318. p. 60, line 13I am this day just as much in love with them as you,
  319. p. 60, line 14But I am eternally in love with you and with all my fellows upon the earth.
  320. p. 60, line 19The sum of all known value and respect I add up in you whoever you are;
  321. p. 60, line 20The President is up there in the White House for you . . . . it is not you who are here for him,
  322. p. 60, line 21The Secretaries act in their bureaus for you . . . . not you here for them,
  323. p. 60, line 25All sculpture and monuments and anything inscribed anywhere are tallied in you,
  324. p. 60, line 26The gist of histories and statistics as far back as the records reach is in you this hour—and myths and tales the same;
  325. p. 61, line 2Did you think it was in the white or gray stone? or the lines of the arches and cornices?
  326. p. 61, line 7Can each see the signs of the best by a look in the lookingglass? Is there nothing greater or more?
  327. p. 61, line 12Anything you do in public by day, and anything you do in secret betweendays,
  328. p. 61, line 15What is seen or learned in the street, or intuitively learned,
  329. p. 61, line 16What is learned in the public school—spelling, reading, writing and ciphering . . . . the blackboard and the teacher's diagrams:
  330. p. 61, line 17The panes of the windows and all that appears through them . . . . the going forth in the morning and the aimless spending of the day;
  331. p. 62, line 7The snowstorm or rainstorm . . . . the tow-trowsers . . . . the lodge-hut in the woods, and the still-hunt:
  332. p. 62, line 12The directory, the detector, the ledger . . . . the books in ranks or the bookshelves . . . . the clock attached to the wall,
  333. 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:
  334. p. 63, line 9The bearhunt or coonhunt . . . . the bonfire of shavings in the open lot in the city . . the crowd of children watching;
  335. p. 63, line 11The shopwindows . . . . the coffins in the sexton's wareroom . . . . the fruit on the fruitstand . . . . the beef on the butcher's stall,
  336. p. 63, line 12The bread and cakes in the bakery . . . . the white and red pork in the pork-store;
  337. p. 63, line 14The column of wants in the one-cent paper . . the news by telegraph . . . . the amusements and operas and shows:
  338. p. 63, line 17The house you live in . . . . the rent . . . . the other tenants . . . . the deposite in the savings-bank . . . . the trade at the grocery,
  339. p. 63, line 19In them the heft of the heaviest . . . . in them far more than you estimated, and far less also,
  340. p. 63, line 20In them, not yourself . . . . you and your soul enclose all things, regardless of estimation,
  341. p. 63, line 21In them your themes and hints and provokers . . if not, the whole earth has no themes or hints or provokers, and never had.
  342. p. 63, line 26In things best known to you finding the best or as good as the best,
  343. p. 64, line 1In folks nearest to you finding also the sweetest and strongest and lovingest,
  344. p. 64, line 2Happiness not in another place, but this place . . not for another hour, but this hour,
  345. p. 64, line 3Man in the first you see or touch . . . . always in your friend or brother or nighest neighbor . . . . Woman in your mother or lover or wife,
  346. p. 64, line 8When the sacred vessels or the bits of the eucharist, or the lath and plast, procreate as effectually as the young silversmiths or bakers, or the masons in their overalls,
  347. p. 64, line 10When the minted gold in the vault smiles like the nightwatchman's daughter,
  348. p. 64, line 11When warrantee deeds loafe in chairs opposite and are my friendly companions,
  349. p. 65, line 7To think that the sun rose in the east . . . . that men and women were flexible and real and alive . . . . that every thing was real and alive;
  350. p. 65, line 13When the soreness of lying so much in bed is over,
  351. p. 66, line 4To think of all these wonders of city and country . . and others taking great interest in them . . and we taking small interest in them.
  352. p. 66, line 5To think how eager we are in building our houses,
  353. p. 66, line 12Posh and ice in the river . . . . half-frozen mud in the streets,
  354. p. 66, line 19The earth is swiftly shovelled in . . . . a minute . . no one moves or speaks . . . . it is done,
  355. p. 67, line 2Good day's work or bad day's work . . . . pet stock or mean stock . . . . first out or last out . . . . turning in at night,
  356. p. 67, line 3To think that these are so much and so nigh to other drivers . . and he there takes no interest in them.
  357. 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?
  358. p. 67, line 11Or with your mother and sisters? or in womanly housework? or the beautiful maternal cares?
  359. p. 67, line 13But in due time you and I shall take less interest in them.
  360. p. 68, line 3Something long preparing and formless is arrived and formed in you,
  361. p. 68, line 25The infected in the immigrant hospital are not nothing . . . . the murderer or mean person is not nothing,
  362. p. 69, line 30The trees have, rooted in the ground . . . . the weeds of the sea have . . . . the animals.
  363. p. 70, line 4I WANDER all night in my vision,
  364. p. 70, line 10How quiet they breathe, the little children in their cradles.
  365. p. 70, line 12The gashed bodies on battlefields, the insane in their strong-doored rooms, the sacred idiots,
  366. p. 70, line 15The married couple sleep calmly in their bed, he with his palm on the hip of the wife, and she with her palm on the hip of the husband,
  367. p. 70, line 16The sisters sleep lovingly side by side in their bed,
  368. p. 70, line 17The men sleep lovingly side by side in theirs,
  369. p. 70, line 20The prisoner sleeps well in the prison . . . . the runaway son sleeps,
  370. p. 71, line 9The restless sink in their beds . . . . they fitfully sleep.
  371. p. 71, line 12I go from bedside to bedside . . . . I sleep close with the other sleepers, each in turn;
  372. p. 71, line 13I dream in my dream all the dreams of the other dreamers,
  373. p. 71, line 18Cache and cache again deep in the ground and sea, and where it is neither ground or sea.
  374. p. 71, line 26The emigrant and the exile . . the criminal that stood in the box,
  375. p. 72, line 6My hands are spread forth . . I pass them in all directions,
  376. p. 72, line 20The white teeth stay, and the boss-tooth advances in darkness,
  377. p. 72, line 25I sit low in a strawbottom chair and carefully darn my grandson's stockings.
  378. p. 72, line 28A shroud I see—and I am the shroud . . . . I wrap a body and lie in the coffin;
  379. p. 73, line 1It seems to me that everything in the light and air ought to be happy;
  380. p. 73, line 2Whoever is not in his coffin and the dark grave, let him know he has enough.
  381. p. 73, line 8Will you kill the courageous giant? Will you kill him in the prime of his middle age?
  382. p. 73, line 12His beautiful body is borne in the circling eddies . . . . it is continually bruised on rocks,
  383. p. 73, line 22In the morning I help pick up the dead and lay them in rows in a barn.
  384. p. 73, line 28He stands in the room of the old tavern . . . . the wellbeloved soldiers all pass through,
  385. p. 74, line 1The officers speechless and slow draw near in their turns,
  386. p. 74, line 10My mother looked in delight and amazement at the stranger,
  387. p. 74, line 32And have an unseen something to be in contact with them also.
  388. p. 75, line 1O love and summer! you are in the dreams and in me,
  389. p. 75, line 2Autumn and winter are in the dreams . . . . the farmer goes with his thrift,
  390. p. 75, line 4Elements merge in the night . . . . ships make tacks in the dreams . . . . the sailor sails . . . . the exile returns home,
  391. p. 75, line 6The poor Irishman lives in the simple house of his childhood, with the wellknown neighbors and faces,
  392. p. 75, line 18The criminal that stood in the box, the judge that sat and sentenced him, the fluent lawyers, the jury, the audience,
  393. p. 75, line 21The antipodes, and every one between this and them in the dark,
  394. p. 75, line 25Every one that sleeps is beautiful . . . . every thing in the dim night is beautiful,
  395. p. 76, line 5The universe is duly in order . . . . every thing is in its place,
  396. p. 76, line 6What is arrived is in its place, and what waits is in its place;
  397. p. 76, line 9The sleepers that lived and died wait . . . . the far advanced are to go on in their turns, and the far behind are to go on in their turns,
  398. p. 76, line 12They flow hand in hand over the whole earth from east to west as they lie unclothed;
  399. p. 76, line 13The Asiatic and African are hand in hand . . . . the European and American are hand in hand,
  400. p. 76, line 14Learned and unlearned are hand in hand . . and male and female are hand in hand;
  401. p. 76, line 16The father holds his grown or ungrown son in his arms with measureless love . . . . and the son holds the father in his arms with measureless love,
  402. p. 76, line 25The swelled and convulsed and congested awake to themselves in condition,
  403. p. 77, line 3I love the rich running day, but I do not desert her in whom I lay so long:
  404. p. 77, line 8Not the womb yields the babe in its time more surely than I shall be yielded from you in my time.
  405. p. 77, line 15The expression of a wellmade man appears not only in his face,
  406. p. 77, line 16It is in his limbs and joints also . . . . it is curiously in the joints of his hips and wrists,
  407. p. 77, line 17It is in his walk . . the carriage of his neck . . the flex of his waist and knees . . . . dress does not hide him,
  408. p. 78, line 4The sprawl and fulness of babes . . . . the bosoms and heads of women . . . . the folds of their dress . . . . their style as we pass in the street . . . . the contour of their shape downwards;
  409. p. 78, line 5The swimmer naked in the swimmingbath . . seen as he swims through the salt transparent greenshine, or lies on his back and rolls silently with the heave of the water;
  410. p. 78, line 6Framers bare-armed framing a house . . hoisting the beams in their places . . or using the mallet and mortising-chisel,
  411. p. 78, line 7The bending forward and backward of rowers in rowboats . . . . the horseman in his saddle;
  412. p. 78, line 8Girls and mothers and housekeepers in all their exquisite offices,
  413. p. 78, line 10The female soothing a child . . . . the farmer's daughter in the garden or cowyard,
  414. p. 78, line 11The woodman rapidly swinging his axe in the woods . . . . the young fellow hoeing corn . . . . the sleighdriver guiding his six horses through the crowd,
  415. p. 78, line 15The march of firemen in their own costumes—the play of the masculine muscle through cleansetting trowsers and waistbands,
  416. p. 78, line 19And swim with the swimmer, and wrestle with wrestlers, and march in line with the firemen, and pause and listen and count.
  417. 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.
  418. p. 79, line 5You would wish long and long to be with him . . . . you would wish to sit by him in the boat that you and he might touch each other.
  419. p. 79, line 7To stop in company with the rest at evening is enough,
  420. p. 79, line 10I do not ask any more delight . . . . I swim in it as in a sea.
  421. p. 79, line 11There is something in staying close to men and women and looking on them and in the contact and odor of them that pleases the soul well,
  422. p. 79, line 24Lost in the cleave of the clasping and sweetfleshed day.
  423. p. 80, line 3The female contains all qualities and tempers them . . . . she is in her place . . . . she moves with perfect balance,
  424. 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,
  425. p. 80, line 7The male is not less the soul, nor more . . . . he too is in his place,
  426. p. 80, line 8He too is all qualities . . . . he is action and power . . . . the flush of the known universe is in him,
  427. p. 80, line 18Each has his or her place in the procession.
  428. p. 81, line 5In that head the allbaffling brain,
  429. p. 81, line 6In it and below it the making of the attributes of heroes.
  430. p. 81, line 7Examine these limbs, red black or white . . . . they are very cunning in tendon and nerve;
  431. p. 81, line 14Do you think they are not there because they are not expressed in parlors and lecture-rooms?
  432. p. 81, line 15This is not only one man . . . . he is the father of those who shall be fathers in their turns,
  433. p. 81, line 16In him the start of populous states and rich republics,
  434. p. 81, line 25In them and of them natal love . . . . in them the divine mystery . . . . the same old beautiful mystery.
  435. p. 82, line 2Do you not see that these are exactly the same to all in all nations and times all over the earth?
  436. p. 82, line 5And in man or woman a clean strong firmfibred body is beautiful as the most beautiful face.
  437. p. 83, line 13Snakes nest in that mouth . . I hear the sibilant threat.
  438. p. 84, line 7And I shall look again in a score or two of ages,
  439. p. 84, line 10Always the shadow in front . . . . always the reached hand bringing up the laggards.
  440. p. 84, line 21In each house is the ovum . . . . it comes forth after a thousand years.
  441. p. 85, line 4I saw the rich ladies in full dress at the soiree,
  442. p. 85, line 6Heard who sprang in crimson youth from the white froth and the water-blue.
  443. p. 85, line 9She sits in an armchair under the shaded porch of the farmhouse,
  444. p. 85, line 19And I stood before the young man face to face, and took his right hand in my left hand and his left hand in my right hand,
  445. p. 85, line 22Him they accept . . . . in him lave . . . . in him perceive themselves as amid light,
  446. p. 86, line 5The ships in the offing . . . . the perpetual shows and marches on land are for him if they are for any body.
  447. p. 86, line 6He puts things in their attitudes,
  448. p. 86, line 23And he says Good day my brother, to Cudge that hoes in the sugarfield;
  449. p. 86, line 25He walks with perfect ease in the capitol,
  450. p. 87, line 10Whoever he looks at in the traveler's coffeehouse claims him,
  451. p. 87, line 14The insulter, the prostitute, the angry person, the beggar, see themselves in the ways of him . . . . he strangely transmutes them,
  452. p. 87, line 19Or beyond one manly or affectionate deed of an apprenticeboy? . . or old woman? . . or man that has been in prison or is likely to be in prison?
  453. p. 88, line 3For court thieving in its manifold mean forms,
  454. p. 88, line 5For many a promise sworn by royal lips, And broken, and laughed at in the breaking,
  455. p. 88, line 6Then in their power not for all these did the blows strike of personal revenge . . or the heads of the nobles fall;
  456. p. 88, line 9Each comes in state with his train . . . . hangman, priest and tax-gatherer . . . . soldier, lawyer, jailer and sycophant.
  457. p. 88, line 11Vague as the night, draped interminably, head front and form in scarlet folds,
  458. p. 88, line 15Meanwhile corpses lie in new-made graves . . . . bloody corpses of young men:
  459. p. 88, line 21They live in other young men, O kings,
  460. p. 88, line 22They live in brothers, again ready to defy you:
  461. p. 88, line 24Not a grave of the murdered for freedom but grows seed for freedom . . . . in its turn to bear seed,
  462. p. 89, line 4I rose this morning early to get betimes in Boston town;
  463. p. 89, line 15Arms in slings and old men leaning on young men's shoulders.
  464. p. 90, line 11Stick your hands in your pockets Jonathan . . . . you are a made man from this day,
  465. p. 91, line 4His own parents . . he that had propelled the fatherstuff at night, and fathered him . . and she that conceived him in her womb and birthed him . . . . they gave this child more of themselves than that,
  466. p. 91, line 14Men and women crowding fast in the streets . . if they are not flashes and specks what are they?
  467. p. 91, line 15The streets themselves, and the facades of houses . . . . the goods in the windows,
  468. p. 91, line 21The strata of colored clouds . . . . the long bar of maroontint away solitary by itself . . . . the spread of purity it lies motionless in,
  469. 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;
  470. p. 92, line 14I do not think it was made in six days, nor in ten thousand years, nor ten decillions of years,
  471. p. 92, line 20I know it is wonderful . . . . but my eyesight is equally wonderful . . . . and how I was conceived in my mother's womb is equally wonderful,
  472. 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.
  473. 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;
  474. p. 93, line 3Come I should like to hear you tell me what there is in yourself that is not just as wonderful,
  475. p. 93, line 5GREAT are the myths . . . . I too delight in them,
  476. p. 93, line 10Yours is the muscle of life or death . . . . yours is the perfect science . . . . in you I have absolute faith.
  477. p. 93, line 12It is good to live in this age . . . . there never was any better.
  478. p. 93, line 19What they felt . . do not we feel it in ourselves?
  479. p. 94, line 3Expression of speech . . in what is written or said forget not that silence is also expressive,
  480. p. 94, line 9Understand then that it goes as far onward from this as this is from the times when it lay in covering waters and gases.
  481. p. 94, line 10Great is the quality of truth in man,
  482. p. 94, line 11The quality of truth in man supports itself through all changes,
  483. p. 94, line 12It is inevitably in the man . . . . He and it are in love, and never leave each other.
  484. p. 94, line 13The truth in man is no dictum . . . . it is vital as eyesight,
  485. p. 94, line 17Sound your voice! I scale mountains or dive in the sea after you.
  486. p. 94, line 24The new rule shall rule as the soul rules, and as the love and justice and equality that are in the soul rule.
  487. p. 94, line 25Great is the law . . . . Great are the old few landmarks of the law . . . . they are the same in all times and shall not be disturbed.
  488. p. 95, line 3Justice is not settled by legislators and laws . . . . it is in the soul,
  489. p. 95, line 6For justice are the grand natural lawyers and perfect judges . . . . it is in their souls,
  490. p. 95, line 19Sure as the stars return again after they merge in the light, death is great as life.