The Complete Poetry of Walt Whitman. Walt Whitman
Me
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
What Think You I Take My Pen in Hand?
O You Whom I Often and Silently Come