Leaves of Grass :[1891] Including Sands at Seventy...1st Annex, Good-Bye my Fancy...2d Annex, A Backward Glance o'er Travel'd Roads, and Portrait from Life |
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Leaves of Grass :[1891] | ||
1
Come said the Muse,
Sing me a song no poet yet has chanted,
Sing me the universal.
Sing me a song no poet yet has chanted,
Sing me the universal.
In this broad earth of ours,
Amid the measureless grossness and the slag,
Enclosed and safe within its central heart,
Nestles the seed perfection.
Amid the measureless grossness and the slag,
Enclosed and safe within its central heart,
Nestles the seed perfection.
By every life a share or more or less,
None born but it is born, conceal'd or unconceal'd the seed is waiting.
None born but it is born, conceal'd or unconceal'd the seed is waiting.
Leaves of Grass :[1891] | ||