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Walt Whitman

Book IV. Children of Adam: O Hymen! O Hymenee!

O hymen! O hymenee! why do you tantalize me thus?
O why sting me for a swift moment only?
Why can you not continue? O why do you now cease?
Is it because if you continued beyond the swift moment you would
soon certainly kill me?

#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass

Other works by Walt Whitman...
Book XXXII. From Noon to Starry Night: Mediums

They shall arise in the States, They shall report Nature, laws, p… They shall illustrate Democracy a… They shall be alimentive, amative,… They shall be complete women and m…
Book XXI. Drum-Taps: A Sight in Camp in the Daybreak Gray and Dim

ll, and here again he lies.A sight… As from my tent I emerge so early… As slow I walk in the cool fresh… Three forms I see on stretchers l… Over each the blanket spread, ampl…
Book V. Calamus: The Base of All Metaphysics

And now, gentlemen, A word I give to remain in your m… As base, and finale too, for all m… (So, to the students, the old prof… At the close of his crowded course…
Book XXXIV. Sands At Seventy: The Calming Thought of All

That coursing on, whate’er men’s s… Amid the changing schools, theolog… Amid the bawling presentations new… The round earth’s silent vital law…
Song of Myself, VII

Has any one supposed it lucky to b… I hasten to inform him or her it i… I pass death with the dying and bi… And peruse manifold objects, no tw… The earth good and the stars good,…
Book V. Calamus: Behold This Swarthy Face

Behold this swarthy face—these gra… This beard—the white wool, unclipt… My brown hands, and the silent man… Yet comes one, a Manhattanese, an… on the lips with robust love,
 1
Song of Myself, I

I Celebrate myself, and sing myse… And what I assume you shall assum… For every atom belonging to me as… I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease observ…
 2
O Bitter Sprig! Confession Sprig!

O BITTER sprig! Confession spr… In the bouquet I give you place a… Proceeding no further till, humble… I give fair warning, once for all. I own that I have been sly, thiev…
Book XXXIV. Sands At Seventy: While Not the Past Forgetting

While not the past forgetting, To-day, at least, contention sunk… For sign reciprocal our Northern,… Lay on the graves of all dead sold… (Nor for the past alone—for meanin…
Book XX. By The Roadside: Beautiful Women

Women sit or move to and fro, some… The young are beautiful—but the ol…
States!

STATES! Were you looking to be held togeth… By an agreement on a paper? Or by… Away! I arrive, bringing these, beyond a…
Book XXXIII. Songs Of Parting: Song at Sunset

Splendor of ended day floating and… Hour prophetic, hour resuming the… Inflating my throat, you divine av… You earth and life till the last r… Open mouth of my soul uttering gla…
Book XX. By The Roadside: Visor’D

A mask, a perpetual natural disgui… Concealing her face, concealing he… Changes and transformations every… Falling upon her even when she sle…
Song of Myself, XIII

The negro holds firmly the reins o… The negro that drives the long dra… His blue shirt exposes his ample n… His glance is calm and commanding,… The sun falls on his crispy hair a…
Song of Myself, XLVIII

I have said that the soul is not m… And I have said that the body is… And nothing, not God, is greater… And whoever walks a furlong withou… And I or you pocketless of a dime…



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