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Poem by Walt Whitman Leaves of Grass. 1. Inscriptions. 8. For Him I Sing For him I sing, I raise the present on the past, (As some perennial tree out of its roots, the present on the past,) With time and space I him dilate and fuse the immortal laws, To make himself by them the law unto himself. Walt Whitman Walt Whitman's other poems:
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