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Poem by Walt Whitman


Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 9. My Canary Bird


Did we count great, O soul, to penetrate the themes of mighty books,
Absorbing deep and full from thoughts, plays, speculations?
But now from thee to me, caged bird, to feel thy joyous warble,
Filling the air, the lonesome room, the long forenoon,
Is it not just as great, O soul?



Walt Whitman


Walt Whitman's other poems:
  1. Leaves of Grass. 32. From Noon to Starry Night. 1. Thou Orb Aloft Full-Dazzling
  2. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 55. An Evening Lull
  3. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. Fancies at Navesink. 1. The Pilot in the Mist
  4. Leaves of Grass. 35. Good-Bye My Fancy. 2. Lingering Last Drops
  5. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. Fancies at Navesink. 5. And Yet Not You Alone


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