HomeWalt WhitmanLeaves of Grass

Leaves of Grass

Year That Trembled and Reel’d Beneath Me

  Year that trembled and reel’d beneath me!
  Your summer wind was warm enough, yet the air I breathed froze me,
  A thick gloom fell through the sunshine and darken’d me,
  Must I change my triumphant songs? said I to myself,
  Must I indeed learn to chant the cold dirges of the baffled?
  And sullen hymns of defeat?

Next page →


← 159 page Leaves of Grass 161 page →
Pages:  141  142  143  144  145  146  147  148  149  150  151  152  153  154  155  156  157  158  159  160 
Overall 376 pages


© e-libr.com
feedback