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 | Leaves of grass (1872) |  |
13
20
Sing on! sing on, you gray-brown bird!Sing from the swamps, the recesses—pour your chant from the bushes;
Limitless out of the dusk, out of the cedars and pines.
21
Sing on, dearest brother—warble your reedy song;Loud human song, with voice of uttermost woe.
22
O liquid, and free, and tender!O wild and loose to my soul! O wondrous singer!
You only I hear ...... yet the star holds me, (but will soon depart;)
Yet the lilac, with mastering odor, holds me.
| Leaves of grass (1872) | |