Leaves of Grass, by Walt Whitman

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EARTH, my likeness,

Though you look so impassive, ample and spheric there,

I now suspect that is not all;

I now suspect there is something fierce in you eligible to burst forth,

For an athlete is enamour'd of me, and I of him,

But toward him there is something fierce and terrible in me eligi-
ble to burst forth,

I dare not tell it in words, not even in these songs.

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