Poem by Walt Whitman

Leaves of Grass. 5. Calamus. 13. 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,
Waited, sailing gracefully, to drop where they may;
Not these, O none of these more than the flames of me, consuming,
      burning for his love whom I love,
O none more than I hurrying in and out;
Does the tide hurry, seeking something, and never give up? O I the same,
O nor down-balls nor perfumes, nor the high rain-emitting clouds,
      are borne through the open air,
Any more than my soul is borne through the open air,
Wafted in all directions O love, for friendship, for you.

1. Leaves of Grass. 35. Good-Bye My Fancy. 18. Sounds of the Winter
2. Leaves of Grass. 20. By the Roadside. 28. Offerings
3. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 28. Old Salt Kossabone
4. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 15. To-Day and Thee
5. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 43. The Dying Veteran

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