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Leaves of Grass (1881-82)
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NOT HEAT FLAMES UP AND CONSUMES.
NOT heat flames up and consumes, |
Not sea-waves hurry in and out, |
Not the air delicious and dry, the air of ripe summer, bears lightly
along white down-balls of myriads of seeds,
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Wafted, sailing gracefully, to drop where they may; |
Not these, O none of these more than the flames of me, consum-
ing, burning for his love whom I love,
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O none more than I hurrying in and out; |
Does the tide hurry, seeking something, and never give up? O I
the same,
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O nor down-balls nor perfumes, nor the high rain-emitting clouds,
are borne through the open air,
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Any more than my soul is borne through the open air, |
Wafted in all directions O love, for friendship, for you. |
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