HomeWalt WhitmanLeaves of Grass

Leaves of Grass

Broadway

  What hurrying human tides, or day or night!
  What passions, winnings, losses, ardors, swim thy waters!
  What whirls of evil, bliss and sorrow, stem thee!
  What curious questioning glances—glints of love!
  Leer, envy, scorn, contempt, hope, aspiration!
  Thou portal—thou arena—thou of the myriad long-drawn lines and groups!
  (Could but thy flagstones, curbs, facades, tell their inimitable tales;
  Thy windows rich, and huge hotels—thy side-walks wide;)
  Thou of the endless sliding, mincing, shuffling feet!
  Thou, like the parti-colored world itself—like infinite, teeming,
      mocking life!
  Thou visor’d, vast, unspeakable show and lesson!

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Pages:  301  302  303  304  305  306  307  308  309  310  311  312  313  314  315  316  317  318  319  320 
Overall 376 pages


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