 | Leaves of grass. |  |
17
35 To the tally of my soul,
Loud and strong kept up the gray-brown bird,
With pure, deliberate notes, spreading, filling the night.
36 Loud in the pines and cedars dim,
Clear in the freshness moist, and the swamp-perfume;
And I with my comrades there in the night.
37 While my sight that was
bound in my eyes unclosed,
As to long panoramas of visions.
Loud and strong kept up the gray-brown bird,
With pure, deliberate notes, spreading, filling the night.
36 Loud in the pines and cedars dim,
Clear in the freshness moist, and the swamp-perfume;
And I with my comrades there in the night.
11b
As to long panoramas of visions.
| Leaves of grass. | |