Whitman, as Printed

‹ Leaves of Grass, 1855

The lines with “what”

what 175 Back to W

  1. p. iii, line 2AMERICA does not repel the past or what it has produced under its forms or amid other politics […]
  2. p. iii, line 87[…] opening of the western continent by discovery and what has transpired since in North and South America were less […]
  3. p. iv, line 28[…] them also from east to west and reflects what is between them. On him rise solid growths that offset […]
  4. p. iv, line 105[…] equalizer of his age and land . . . . he supplies what wants supplying and checks what wants checking. If peace is […]
  5. p. iv, line 106[…] land . . . . he supplies what wants supplying and checks what wants checking. If peace is the routine out of him […]
  6. p. v, line 39[…] by him but never the power of attack. What is past is past. If he does not expose superior […]
  7. p. v, line 41[…] by every step he takes he is not what is wanted. The presence of the greatest poet conquers . . . not […]
  8. p. v, line 59[…] any regulation . . . he is the president of regulation. What the eyesight does to the rest he does to the […]
  9. p. v, line 67[…] and books of the earth and all reasoning. What is marvellous? what is unlikely? what is impossible or baseless […]
  10. p. v, line 68[…] the earth and all reasoning. What is marvellous? what is unlikely? what is impossible or baseless or vague? after you have once […]
  11. p. v, line 117[…] his ornaments or fluency is lost. This is what youshall do: Love the earth and sun and the animals […]
  12. p. vi, line 30[…] and persuades daily and hourly his delicious pay. What balks or breaks others is fuel for his burning progress […]
  13. p. vi, line 78[…] with the laws that pursue and follow time. What is the purpose must surely be there and the clue […]
  14. p. vi, line 84[…] joined. The greatest poet forms the consistence of what is to be from what has been and is. He […]
  15. p. vi, line 85[…] the consistence of what is to be from what has been and is. He drags the dead out of […]
  16. p. vi, line 94[…] exhibits the pinnacles that no man can tell what they are for or what is beyond . . . . he glows a […]
  17. p. vi, line 95[…] man can tell what they are for or what is beyond . . . . he glows a moment on the extremest verge […]
  18. p. vii, line 26[…] hang in the way, not the richest curtains. What I tell I tell for precisely what it is. Let who may exalt or startle or fascinate […]
  19. p. vii, line 29[…] snow has and be as regardless of observation. What I experience or portray shall go from my composition without […]
  20. p. vii, line 53[…] understand us, We are no better than you, What we enclose you enclose, What we enjoy you may enjoy. Did you suppose there could […]
  21. p. vii, line 59[…] of the consciousness of their supremacy within them. What do you think is the grandeur of storms and dismemberments […]
  22. p. vii, line 99[…] the structure of every perfect poem. No matter what rises or is uttered they sent the seed of the […]
  23. p. viii, line 1[…] educed out of it departs as a dream.What has ever happened . . . . what happens and whatever may or shall happen, the vital laws […]
  24. p. viii, line 21[…] tendencies of all toward happiness never inconsistent with what is clear to the senses and to the soul. For […]
  25. p. ix, line 90[…] of life, nor in that condition that follows what we term death, nor in any stretch of abeyance or […]
  26. p. x, line 31[…] the thought of the prudence suitable for immortality. What is wisdom that fills the thinness of a year or […]
  27. p. x, line 38[…] is of itself . . . . all else has reference to what ensues. All that a person does or thinks is of […]
  28. p. xi, line 25[…] perceives the indirect assuredly following the direct, and what evil or good he does leaping onward and waiting to […]
  29. p. xi, line 43[…] and makes the present spot the passage from what was to what shall be, and commits itself to the representation of this […]
  30. p. xii, line 29[…] use to me today here? I know that what answers for me an American must answer for any individual […]
  31. p. 13, line 2And what I assume you shall assume,
  32. p. 14, line 9I have heard what the talkers were talking . . . . the talk of the beginning and the end,
  33. p. 15, line 15Apart from the pulling and hauling stands what I am,
  34. p. 15, line 18Looks with its sidecurved head curious what will come next,
  35. p. 16, line 7A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands;
  36. p. 16, line 8How could I answer the child? . . . . I do not know what it is any more than he.
  37. p. 17, line 1What do you think has become of the young and old men?
  38. p. 17, line 2And what do you think has become of the women and children?
  39. p. 17, line 8And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.
  40. p. 18, line 10What groans of overfed or half-starved who fall on the flags sunstruck or in fits,
  41. p. 18, line 11What exclamations of women taken suddenly, who hurry home and give birth to babes,
  42. p. 18, line 12What living and buried speech is always vibrating here . . . . what howls restrained by decorum,
  43. p. 20, line 20Oxen that rattle the yoke or halt in the shade, what is that you express in your eyes?
  44. p. 21, line 14What is commonest and cheapest and nearest and easiest is Me,
  45. p. 21, line 33What is removed drops horribly in a pail;
  46. p. 23, line 7Seasons pursuing each other the indescribable crowd is gathered . . . . it is the Fourth of July . . . . what salutes of cannon and small arms!
  47. p. 25, line 22What is a man anyhow? What am I? and what are you?
  48. p. 26, line 7All are written to me, and I must get what the writing means.
  49. p. 26, line 22I laugh at what you call dissolution,
  50. p. 27, line 20You sea! I resign myself to you also . . . . I guess what you mean,
  51. p. 28, line 2What blurt is it about virtue and about vice?
  52. p. 28, line 8I step up to say that what we do is right and what we affirm is right . . . . and some is only the ore of right,
  53. p. 28, line 14What behaved well in the past or behaves well today is not such a wonder,
  54. p. 31, line 3My voice goes after what my eyes cannot reach,
  55. p. 31, line 22And accrue what I hear into myself . . . . and let sounds contribute toward me.
  56. p. 32, line 19To be in any form, what is that?
  57. p. 32, line 29My flesh and blood playing out lightning, to strike what is hardly different from myself,
  58. p. 33, line 12You villain touch! what are you doing? . . . . my breath is tight in its throat;
  59. p. 33, line 24What is less or more than a touch?
  60. p. 33, line 27Only what proves itself to every man and woman is so,
  61. p. 33, line 28Only what nobody denies is so.
  62. p. 34, line 11And have distanced what is behind me for good reasons,
  63. p. 35, line 12Swift wind! Space! My Soul! Now I know it is true what I guessed at;
  64. p. 35, line 13What I guessed when I loafed on the grass,
  65. 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.
  66. p. 42, line 26What the rebel said gaily adjusting his throat to the rope-noose,
  67. p. 42, line 27What the savage at the stump, his eye-sockets empty, his mouth spirting whoops and defiance,
  68. p. 42, line 28What stills the traveler come to the vault at Mount Vernon,
  69. p. 42, line 29What sobers the Brooklyn boy as he looks down the shores of the Wallabout and remembers the prison ships,
  70. p. 42, line 30What burnt the gums of the redcoat at Saratoga when he surrendered his brigades,
  71. p. 43, line 22The grave of rock multiplies what has been confided to it . . . . or to any graves,
  72. p. 44, line 19Say old topknot! what do you want?
  73. p. 44, line 21And might tell what it is in me and what it is in you, but cannot,
  74. p. 44, line 24What I give I give out of myself.
  75. p. 45, line 2You can do nothing and be nothing but what I will infold you.
  76. p. 45, line 18And when you rise in the morning you will find what I tell you is so.
  77. p. 45, line 21I heard what was said of the universe,
  78. p. 45, line 32Honestly taking them all for what they are worth, and not a cent more,
  79. p. 46, line 13What was strewn in the amplest strewing the square rod about me, and not filling the square rod then;
  80. p. 47, line 21What I do and say the same waits for them,
  81. p. 48, line 6Sermons and creeds and theology . . . . but the human brain, and what is called reason, and what is called love, and what is called life?
  82. p. 49, line 3And what is yet untried and afterward is for you and me and all.
  83. p. 49, line 4I do not know what is untried and afterward,
  84. p. 49, line 18What is known I strip away . . . . I launch all men and women forward with me into the unknown.
  85. p. 49, line 19The clock indicates the moment . . . . but what does eternity indicate?
  86. p. 50, line 3What have I to do with lamentation?
  87. p. 50, line 18They sent influences to look after what was to hold me.
  88. p. 51, line 5Every condition promulges not only itself . . . . it promulges what grows after and out of itself,
  89. p. 53, line 28They and all would resume what I have told them.
  90. p. 55, line 4There is that in me . . . . I do not know what it is . . . . but I know it is in me.
  91. p. 55, line 16Listener up there! Here you . . . . what have you to confide to me?
  92. p. 56, line 7You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
  93. p. 57, line 8Were all educations practical and ornamental well displayed out of me, what would it amount to?
  94. p. 57, line 9Were I as the head teacher or charitable proprietor or wise statesman, what would it amount to?
  95. p. 58, line 6Why what have you thought of yourself?
  96. p. 58, line 12I own publicly who you are, if nobody else owns . . . . aud see and hear you, and what you give and take;
  97. p. 58, line 13What is there you cannot give and take?
  98. p. 59, line 6I bring what you much need, yet always have,
  99. p. 59, line 10It is not what is printed or preached or discussed . . . . it eludes discussion and print,
  100. p. 59, line 13It is hinted by nearest and commonest and readiest . . . . it is not them, though it is endlessly provoked by them . . . . What is there ready and near you now?
  101. p. 59, line 19I do not know what it is except that it is grand, and that it is happiness,
  102. p. 61, line 1All architecture is what you do to it when you look upon it;
  103. p. 61, line 3All music is what awakens from you when you are reminded by the instruments,
  104. p. 61, line 13What is called right and what is called wrong . . . . what you behold or touch . . . . what causes your anger or wonder,
  105. p. 61, line 15What is seen or learned in the street, or intuitively learned,
  106. p. 61, line 16What is learned in the public school—spelling, reading, writing and ciphering . . . . the blackboard and the teacher's diagrams:
  107. p. 61, line 18(What is it that you made money? what is it that you got what you wanted?)
  108. p. 62, line 11The paper I write on or you write on . . and every word we write . . and every cross and twirl of the pen . . and the curious way we write what we think . . . . yet very faintly;
  109. p. 62, line 15Glassblowing, grinding of wheat and corn . . casting, and what is cast . . tinroofing, shingledressing,
  110. p. 63, line 22I do not affirm what you see beyond is futile . . . . I do not advise you to stop,
  111. p. 66, line 25Had known what it was to be flush . . grew lowspirited toward the last . . sickened . . was helped by a contribution,
  112. p. 67, line 4The markets, the government, the workingman's wages . . . . to think what account they are through our nights and days;
  113. p. 67, line 6The vulgar and the refined . . . . what you call sin and what you call goodness . . to think how wide a difference;
  114. p. 67, line 15To think there will still be farms and profits and crops . . yet for you of what avail?
  115. p. 67, line 16What will be will be well—for what is is well,
  116. p. 69, line 6What is the earth? what are body and soul without satisfaction?
  117. p. 69, line 21What is called good is perfect, and what is called sin is just as perfect;
  118. p. 71, line 11I saw that it was beautiful . . . . and I see that what is not the earth is beautiful.
  119. p. 72, line 8Be careful, darkness . . . . already, what was it touched me?
  120. p. 72, line 17And am curious to know where my feet stand . . . . and what is this flooding me, childhood or manhood . . . . and the hunger that crosses the bridge between.
  121. p. 73, line 7What are you doing you ruffianly red-trickled waves?
  122. p. 74, line 4Now I tell what my mother told me today as we sat at dinner together,
  123. p. 76, line 6What is arrived is in its place, and what waits is in its place;
  124. 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?
  125. p. 79, line 17Books, art, religion, time . . the visible and solid earth . . the atmosphere and the fringed clouds . . what was expected of heaven or feared of hell are now consumed,
  126. p. 81, line 24Who knows through the centuries what heroes may come from them?
  127. p. 83, line 11Some milknosed maggot blessing what lets it wrig to its hole.
  128. p. 84, line 4And I knew for my consolation what they knew not;
  129. p. 84, line 11Out of this face emerge banners and horses . . . . O superb! . . . . I see what is coming,
  130. p. 85, line 5I heard what the run of poets were saying so long,
  131. p. 86, line 4Nothing for any one but what is for him . . . . near and far are for him,
  132. p. 86, line 10What can be answered he answers, and what cannot be answered he shows how it cannot be answered.
  133. p. 87, line 6No matter what the work is, that he is one to follow it or has followed it,
  134. p. 87, line 7No matter what the nation, that he might find his brothers and sisters there.
  135. p. 87, line 18But what are verses beyond the flowing character you could have? . . . . or beyond beautiful manners and behaviour?
  136. p. 89, line 16What troubles you, Yankee phantoms? What is all this chattering of bare gums?
  137. p. 89, line 27But there is one thing that belongs here . . . . Shall I tell you what it is, gentlemen of Boston?
  138. p. 91, line 11Affection that will not be gainsayed . . . . The sense of what is real . . . . the thought if after all it should prove unreal,
  139. p. 91, line 14Men and women crowding fast in the streets . . if they are not flashes and specks what are they?
  140. p. 92, line 12I cannot say to any person what I hear . . . . I cannot say it to myself . . . . it is very wonderful.
  141. p. 93, line 3Come I should like to hear you tell me what there is in yourself that is not just as wonderful,
  142. p. 93, line 18What the best and worst did we could do,
  143. p. 93, line 19What they felt . . do not we feel it in ourselves?
  144. p. 93, line 20What they wished . . do we not wish the same?
  145. p. 94, line 3Expression of speech . . in what is written or said forget not that silence is also expressive,
  146. p. 94, line 7Great is the earth, and the way it became what it is,
  147. p. 94, line 21Great is the English speech . . . . What speech is so great as the English?
  148. p. 94, line 22Great is the English brood . . . . What brood has so vast a destiny as the English?
  149. p. 95, line 5It is immutable . . it does not depend on majorities . . . . majorities or what not come at last before the same passionless and exact tribunal.
  150. p. 95, line 12I do not know what it is any more than I know what health is . . . . but I know it is great.