Index
Come, said my soul,
Such verses for my Body let us write, (for we are one,)
That should I after return,
Or, long, long hence, in other spheres,
There to some group of mates the chants resuming,
(Tallying Earth's soil, trees, winds, tumultuous waves,)
Ever with pleas'd smile I may keep on,
Ever and ever yet the verses owning—as, first, I here and now
Signing for Soul and Body, set to them my name,
Walt Whitman
CONTENTS
On Journeys Through the States
Out of the Rolling Ocean the Crowd
Ages and Ages Returning at Intervals
We Two, How Long We Were Fool'd
Once I Pass'd Through a Populous City
I Heard You Solemn-Sweet Pipes of the Organ
Facing West from California's Shores
Whoever You Are Holding Me Now in Hand
Not Heaving from My Ribb'd Breast Only
Of the Terrible Doubt of Appearances
When I Heard at the Close of the Day
Are You the New Person Drawn Toward Me?
Roots and Leaves Themselves Alone
Not Heat Flames Up and Consumes
I Saw in Louisiana a Live-Oak Growing
This Moment Yearning and Thoughtful
I Hear It Was Charged Against Me
When I Peruse the Conquer'd Fame
Here the Frailest Leaves of Me
