Whitman, as Printed

‹ Leaves of Grass, 1855

The lines with “by”

by 155 Back to B

  1. p. iii, line 52[…] practical acknowledgment of the citizens of one state by the citizens of all other states—the fierceness of their […]
  2. p. iii, line 87[…] As if the opening of the western continent by discovery and what has transpired since in North and South […]
  3. p. iv, line 22[…] seas off California and Oregon, is not tallied by the blue breadth of the waters below more than the […]
  4. p. iv, line 24[…] the breadth of above and below is tallied by him. When the long Atlantic coast stretches longer and the […]
  5. p. iv, line 56[…] formation of the constitution . . . . the union always surrounded by blatherers and always calm and impregnable—the perpetual coming of […]
  6. p. v, line 1[…] state or municipal government,marriage, health, freetrade, intertravel by land and sea . . . . nothing too close, nothing too far off […]
  7. p. v, line 17[…] toward infidelity and confections and persiflage he withholds by his steady faith . . . he spreads out his dishes . . . he offers […]
  8. p. v, line 38[…] power to destroy or remould is freely used by him but never the power of attack. What is past […]
  9. p. v, line 41[…] does not expose superior models and prove himself by every step he takes he is not what is wanted […]
  10. p. v, line 91[…] in outdoor people. They can never be assisted by poets to perceive . . . some may but they never can. The […]
  11. p. vi, line 98[…] wonderful in his last half-hidden smile or frown . . . by that flash of the moment of parting the one that […]
  12. p. vii, line 7[…] sentiment of trees in the woods and grass by the roadside is the flawless triumph of art. If you […]
  13. p. vii, line 32[…] a shred of my composition. You shall stand by my side and look in the mirror with me […]
  14. p. vii, line 36[…] stainless gentility of great poets will be proved by their unconstraint. A heroic person walks at his ease through […]
  15. p. vii, line 78[…] he that confronts all the shows he sees by equivalents out of the stronger wealth of himself. The American […]
  16. p. vii, line 101[…] of the conception of it . . . of them and by them stand the visible proofs of souls . . . . . always of their […]
  17. p. viii, line 61[…] the faithful American lesson. Liberty is poorly served by men whose good intent is quelled from one failure or […]
  18. p. viii, line 116[…] a candid and generous heart . . . . and when servility by town or state or the federal government or any oppression […]
  19. p. ix, line 64The great poets are also to be known by the absence in them of tricks and by the justification […]
  20. p. ix, line 65[…] by the absence in them of tricks and by the justification of perfect personal candor. Then folks echo a […]
  21. p. x, line 33[…] seventy or eighty years to wisdom spaced out by ages and coming back at a certain time with strong […]
  22. p. x, line 53[…] young men . . not of the attainment of gain by discreditable means , . not any nastiness of appetite . . not any harshness […]
  23. p. x, line 59[…] malignant wishes . . . nor any of the wiles practised by people upon themselves . . . ever is or ever can be stamped […]
  24. p. x, line 90[…] opinion's sake . . . all pains of enthusiasts scoffed at by their neighbors . . all the vast sweet love and precious suffering […]
  25. p. x, line 98[…] mightier and more ancient nations unknown to us by name or date or location . . . . all that was ever manfully […]
  26. p. x, line 102[…] out of the divine heart of man or by the divinity of his mouth or by the shaping of his great hands . . and all that is […]
  27. p. x, line 105[…] any of the wandering stars or fixed stars by those there as we are here . . or that is henceforth […]
  28. p. x, line 107[…] is henceforth to be well thought or done by you whoever you are, or by any one—these singly […]
  29. p. x, line 109[…] or done by you whoever you are, or by any one—these singly and wholly inured at their time […]
  30. p. xi, line 15[…] with the present, matches every thought or act by its correlative, knows no possible forgiveness or deputed atonement . . knows […]
  31. p. xi, line 41[…] the swimming shape of today, and is held by the ductile anchors of life, and makes the present spot […]
  32. p. xi, line 94[…] awhile . . perhaps a generation or two . . dropping off by degrees. A superior breed shall take their place . . . . the gangs […]
  33. p. xii, line 13[…] household arrangements or public institutions or the treatment by bosses of employed people, nor executive detail or detail of […]
  34. p. xii, line 22[…] freeman's and freewoman's heart after that which passes by or this built to remain. Is it uniform with my […]
  35. p. xii, line 34[…] special ranks? or old needs of pleasure overlaid by modern science and forms? Does this acknowledge liberty with audible […]
  36. p. xii, line 53[…] the vital and great can only be satisfied by the demeanor of the vital and great. The swarms of […]
  37. p. 13, line 11I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked,
  38. p. 14, line 24Lack one lacks both . . . . and the unseen is proved by the seen,
  39. p. 18, line 12What living and buried speech is always vibrating here . . . . what howls restrained by decorum,
  40. p. 18, line 27Soundly falling asleep on the gathered leaves, my dog and gun by my side.
  41. p. 19, line 1Her father and his friends sat near by crosslegged and dumbly smoking . . . . they had moccasins to their feet and large thick blankets hanging from their shoulders;
  42. p. 19, line 15Twenty-eight young men bathe by the shore,
  43. p. 19, line 18She owns the fine house by the rise of the bank,
  44. p. 21, line 24The duck-shooter walks by silent and cautious stretches,
  45. p. 21, line 27The farmer stops by the bars of a Sunday and looks at the oats and rye,
  46. p. 21, line 34The quadroon girl is sold at the stand . . . . the drunkard nods by the barroom stove,
  47. p. 22, line 32The President holds a cabinet council, he is surrounded by the great secretaries,
  48. p. 23, line 4The fare-collector goes through the train—he gives notice by the jingling of loose change,
  49. p. 23, line 9Off on the lakes the pikefisher watches and waits by the hole in the frozen surface,
  50. p. 23, line 12The coon-seekers go now through the regions of the Red river, or through those drained by the Tennessee, or through those of the Arkansas,
  51. p. 23, line 18The old husband sleeps by his wife and the young husband sleeps by his wife;
  52. p. 26, line 9I know this orbit of mine cannot be swept by a carpenter's compass,
  53. p. 26, line 14I reckon I behave no prouder than the level I plant my house by after all.
  54. p. 26, line 18One world is aware, and by far the largest to me, and that is myself,
  55. p. 27, line 4I call to the earth and sea half-held by the night.
  56. p. 28, line 27The facts are useful and real . . . . they are not my dwelling . . . . I enter by them to an area of the dwelling.
  57. p. 29, line 12By God! I will accept nothing which all cannot have their counterpart of on the same terms.
  58. p. 29, line 24Voices indecent by me clarified and transfigured.
  59. p. 30, line 31The earth by the sky staid with . . . . the daily close of their junction,
  60. p. 31, line 10Waiting in gloom protected by frost,
  61. p. 31, line 17I crowd your noisiest talk by looking toward you.
  62. p. 31, line 29The heave'e'yo of stevedores unlading ships by the wharves . . . . the refrain of the anchor-lifters;
  63. p. 32, line 14It sails me . . . . I dab with bare feet . . . . they are licked by the indolent waves,
  64. p. 32, line 15I am exposed . . . . cut by bitter and poisoned hail,
  65. p. 32, line 34Unbuttoning my clothes and holding me by the bare waist,
  66. p. 33, line 9I am given up by traitors;
  67. p. 33, line 16Parting tracked by arriving . . . . perpetual payment of the perpetual loan,
  68. p. 33, line 18Sprouts take and accumulate . . . . stand by the curb prolific and vital,
  69. p. 35, line 18By the city's quadrangular houses . . . . in log-huts, or camping with lumbermen,
  70. p. 35, line 22Scorched ankle-deep by the hot sand . . . . hauling my boat down the shallow river;
  71. p. 35, line 25Where the alligator in his tough pimples sleeps by the bayou,
  72. p. 36, line 4Scaling mountains . . . . pulling myself cautiously up . . . . holding on by low scragged limbs,
  73. p. 36, line 22Approaching Manhattan, up by the long-stretching island,
  74. p. 37, line 4Where the laughing-gull scoots by the slappy shore and laughs her near-human laugh;
  75. p. 37, line 5Where beehives range on a gray bench in the garden half-hid by the high weeds;
  76. p. 37, line 25By the cot in the hospital reaching lemonade to a feverish patient,
  77. p. 37, line 26By the coffined corpse when all is still, examining with a candle;
  78. p. 37, line 31Walking the old hills of Judea with the beautiful gentle god by my side;
  79. p. 38, line 21Or we are entering by the suburbs some vast and ruined city . . . . the blocks and fallen architecture more than all the living cities of the globe.
  80. p. 38, line 22I am a free companion . . . . I bivouac by invading watchfires.
  81. p. 38, line 25My voice is the wife's voice, the screech by the rail of the stairs,
  82. p. 39, line 11The hounded slave that flags in the race and leans by the fence, blowing and covered with sweat,
  83. p. 40, line 28The work commenced about five o'clock and was over by eight.
  84. p. 41, line 10Did you learn who won by the light of the moon and stars?
  85. p. 41, line 20The transit to and from the magazine was now stopped by the sentinels,
  86. p. 41, line 26One was directed by the captain himself against the enemy's mainmast,
  87. p. 42, line 14Near by the corpse of the child that served in the cabin,
  88. p. 42, line 18Formless stacks of bodies and bodies by themselves . . . . dabs of flesh upon the masts and spars,
  89. p. 42, line 21Delicate sniffs of the seabreeze . . . . smells of sedgy grass and fields by the shore . . . death-messages given in charge to survivors,
  90. p. 43, line 6Not a mutineer walks handcuffed to the jail, but I am handcuffed to him and walk by his side,
  91. p. 43, line 26Inland and by the seacoast and boundary lines . . . . and we pass the boundary lines.
  92. p. 45, line 12By God! you shall not go down! Hang your whole weight upon me.
  93. p. 46, line 9By the mechanic's wife with her babe at her nipple interceding for every person born;
  94. p. 46, line 12Selling all he possesses and traveling on foot to fee lawyers for his brother and sit by him while he is tried for forgery:
  95. p. 46, line 19By my life-lumps! becoming already a creator!
  96. p. 48, line 27By experience I know them.
  97. p. 49, line 8Nor the young woman who died and was put by his side,
  98. p. 49, line 11Nor him in the poorhouse tubercled by rum and the bad disorder,
  99. p. 50, line 29Crying by day Ahoy from the rocks of the river . . . . swinging and chirping over my head,
  100. p. 52, line 13For after we start we never lie by again.
  101. p. 52, line 25Long have you timidly waded, holding a plank by the shore,
  102. p. 52, line 29He that by me spreads a wider breast than my own proves the width of my own,
  103. p. 54, line 14I find letters from God dropped in the street, and every one is signed by God's name,
  104. p. 54, line 19I recline by the sills of the exquisite flexible doors . . . . and mark the outlet, and mark the relief and escape.
  105. p. 55, line 26The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me . . . . he complains of my gab and my loitering.
  106. p. 57, line 18If your lover or husband or wife is welcome by day or night, I must be personally as welcome;
  107. p. 59, line 13It is hinted by nearest and commonest and readiest . . . . it is not them, though it is endlessly provoked by them . . . . What is there ready and near you now?
  108. p. 59, line 21And that it is not something which by luck may turn out well for us, and without luck must be a failure for us,
  109. p. 61, line 3All music is what awakens from you when you are reminded by the instruments,
  110. p. 61, line 7Can each see the signs of the best by a look in the lookingglass? Is there nothing greater or more?
  111. p. 61, line 12Anything you do in public by day, and anything you do in secret betweendays,
  112. p. 62, line 16Shipcarpentering, flagging of sidewalks by flaggers . . dockbuilding, fishcuring, ferrying;
  113. p. 63, line 14The column of wants in the one-cent paper . . the news by telegraph . . . . the amusements and operas and shows:
  114. p. 66, line 25Had known what it was to be flush . . grew lowspirited toward the last . . sickened . . was helped by a contribution,
  115. p. 70, line 16The sisters sleep lovingly side by side in their bed,
  116. p. 70, line 17The men sleep lovingly side by side in theirs,
  117. p. 71, line 7I stand with drooping eyes by the worstsuffering and restless,
  118. p. 72, line 21And liquor is spilled on lips and bosoms by touching glasses, and the best liquor afterward.
  119. p. 73, line 16The beach is cut by the razory ice-wind . . . . the wreck-guns sound,
  120. p. 73, line 26He sees the slaughter of the southern braves confided to him by their parents.
  121. p. 74, line 14She made her sit on a bench by the jamb of the fireplace . . . . she cooked food for her,
  122. p. 76, line 18The breath of the boy goes with the breath of the man . . . . friend is inarmed by friend,
  123. p. 77, line 2I am not afraid . . . . I have been well brought forward by you;
  124. p. 79, line 1They and his daughters loved him . . . all who saw him loved him . . . they did not love him by allowance . . . they loved him with personal love;
  125. p. 79, line 3He was a frequent gunner and fisher . . . he sailed his boat himself . . . he had a fine one presented to him by a shipjoiner . . . . he had fowling-pieces, presented to him by men that loved him;
  126. p. 79, line 5You would wish long and long to be with him . . . . you would wish to sit by him in the boat that you and he might touch each other.
  127. p. 79, line 8To be surrounded by beautiful curious breathing laughing flesh is enough,
  128. p. 79, line 16I am drawn by its breath as if I were no more than a helpless vapor . . . . all falls aside but myself and it,
  129. p. 79, line 20Ebb stung by the flow, and flow stung by the ebb . . . . loveflesh swelling and deliciously aching,
  130. p. 80, line 6I see the bearer of the great fruit which is immortality . . . . the good thereof is not tasted by roues, and never can be.
  131. p. 83, line 4A wild hawk . . his wings clipped by the clipper,
  132. p. 83, line 20Its teeth grit . . the palms of the hands are cut by the turned-in nails,
  133. p. 83, line 22This face is bitten by vermin and worms,
  134. p. 85, line 2It hangs low over the rows of trees by the fences,
  135. p. 85, line 3It hangs thin by the sassafras, the wildcherry and the catbrier under them.
  136. p. 86, line 15Whichever the sex . . . whatever the season or place he may go freshly and gently and safely by day or by night,
  137. p. 86, line 18The person he favors by day or sleeps with at night is blessed.
  138. p. 88, line 5For many a promise sworn by royal lips, And broken, and laughed at in the breaking,
  139. p. 88, line 13Out of its robes only this . . . . the red robes, lifted by the arm,
  140. p. 88, line 19Those martyrs that hang from the gibbets . . . those hearts pierced by the gray lead,
  141. p. 88, line 23They were purified by death . . . . They were taught and exalted.
  142. p. 89, line 13Uncountable phantoms gather by flank and rear of it,
  143. p. 90, line 18And the March-born lambs, and the sow's pink-faint litter, and the mare's foal, and the cow's calf, and the noisy brood of the barnyard or by the mire of the pond-side . . and the fish suspending themselves so curiously below there . . and the beautiful curious liquid . . and the water-plants with their graceful flat heads . . all became part of him.
  144. p. 90, line 20And the appletrees covered with blossoms, and the fruit afterward . . . . and wood-berries . . and the commonest weeds by the road;
  145. p. 91, line 7The mother with mild words . . . . clean her cap and gown . . . . a wholesome odor falling off her person and clothes as she walks by:
  146. p. 91, line 19The schooner near by sleepily dropping down the tide . . the little boat slacktowed astern,
  147. p. 91, line 21The strata of colored clouds . . . . the long bar of maroontint away solitary by itself . . . . the spread of purity it lies motionless in,
  148. p. 95, line 3Justice is not settled by legislators and laws . . . . it is in the soul,
  149. p. 95, line 4It cannot be varied by statutes any more than love or pride or the attraction of gravity can,