HomeWalt WhitmanLeaves of Grass

Leaves of Grass

Ah Poverties, Wincings, and Sulky Retreats

  Ah poverties, wincings, and sulky retreats,
  Ah you foes that in conflict have overcome me,
  (For what is my life or any man’s life but a conflict with foes, the
      old, the incessant war?)
  You degradations, you tussle with passions and appetites,
  You smarts from dissatisfied friendships, (ah wounds the sharpest of all!)
  You toil of painful and choked articulations, you meannesses,
  You shallow tongue-talks at tables, (my tongue the shallowest of any;)
  You broken resolutions, you racking angers, you smother’d ennuis!
  Ah think not you finally triumph, my real self has yet to come forth,
  It shall yet march forth o’ermastering, till all lies beneath me,
  It shall yet stand up the soldier of ultimate victory.

Next page →


← 260 page Leaves of Grass 262 page →
Pages:  261  262  263  264  265  266  267  268  269  270  271  272  273  274  275  276  277  278  279  280 
Overall 376 pages


© e-libr.com
feedback