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Leaves of Grass (1891-92)
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WARBLE FOR LILAC-TIME.
WARBLE me now for joy of lilac-time, (returning in reminiscence,) |
Sort me O tongue and lips for Nature's sake, souvenirs of earliest
summer,
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Gather the welcome signs, (as children with pebbles or stringing
shells,)
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Put in April and May, the hylas croaking in the ponds, the elastic
air,
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Bees, butterflies, the sparrow with its simple notes, |
View Page 294
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Blue-bird and darting swallow, nor forget the high-hole flashing
his golden wings,
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The tranquil sunny haze, the clinging smoke, the vapor, |
Shimmer of waters with fish in them, the cerulean above, |
All that is jocund and sparkling, the brooks running, |
The maple woods, the crisp February days and the sugar-making, |
The robin where he hops, bright-eyed, brown-breasted, |
With musical clear call at sunrise, and again at sunset, |
Or flitting among the trees of the apple-orchard, building the nest
of his mate,
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The melted snow of March, the willow sending forth its yellow-
green sprouts,
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For spring-time is here! the summer is here! and what is this
in it and from it?
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Thou, soul, unloosen'd—the restlessness after I know not what; |
Come, let us lag here no longer, let us be up and away! |
O if one could but fly like a bird! |
O to escape, to sail forth as in a ship! |
To glide with thee O soul, o'er all, in all, as a ship o'er the waters; |
Gathering these hints, the preludes, the blue sky, the grass, the
morning drops of dew,
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The lilac-scent, the bushes with dark green heart-shaped leaves, |
Wood-violets, the little delicate pale blossoms called innocence, |
Samples and sorts not for themselves alone, but for their atmos-
phere,
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To grace the bush I love—to sing with the birds, |
A warble for joy of lilac-time, returning in reminiscence. |
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