Whitman, as Printed

‹ Leaves of Grass, 1855

The lines with “you”

you 396 Back to Y

  1. p. v, line 69[…] what is impossible or baseless or vague? after you have once just opened the space of a peachpit and […]
  2. p. vi, line 11[…] every year of your life, re examine all you have been told at school or church or in any […]
  3. p. vi, line 76[…] less to bear on your individual character as you hear or read. To do this well is to compete […]
  4. p. vi, line 88[…] and walk before me that I may realize you. He learns the lesson . . . . he places himself where the future […]
  5. p. vii, line 8[…] roadside is the flawless triumph of art. If you have looked on him who has achieved it you have […]
  6. p. vii, line 9[…] have looked on him who has achieved it you have looked on one of the masters of the artists […]
  7. p. vii, line 11[…] of the artists of all nations and times. You shall not contemplate the flight of the graygull over the […]
  8. p. vii, line 16[…] the moon afterward with any more satisfaction than you shall contemplate him. The greatest poet has less a marked […]
  9. p. vii, line 32[…] my composition without a shred of my composition. You shall stand by my side and look in the mirror […]
  10. p. vii, line 52[…] to us on equal terms, Only then can you understand us, We are no better than you, What we enclose you enclose, What we enjoy you may […]
  11. p. vii, line 53[…] are no better than you, What we enclose you enclose, What we enjoy you may enjoy. Did you suppose there could be only one […]
  12. p. vii, line 54[…] enclose, What we enjoy you may enjoy. Did you suppose there could be only one Supreme? We affirm there […]
  13. p. vii, line 60[…] consciousness of their supremacy within them. What do you think is the grandeur of storms and dismemberments and the […]
  14. p. viii, line 60[…] awhile and though they neither speak or advise you shall learn the faithful American lesson. Liberty is poorly served […]
  15. p. viii, line 89[…] the taste of the people . . . . when I and you walk abroad upon the earth stung with compassion at the […]
  16. p. ix, line 27[…] from its need and riches from its conceit. You large proprietor they say shall not realize or perceive more […]
  17. p. x, line 16[…] the true taste of the women and men you pass or have to do with in youth or middle […]
  18. p. x, line 36[…] the clear faces of wedding-guests as far as you can look in every direction running gaily toward you? Only […]
  19. p. x, line 37[…] can look in every direction running gaily toward you? Only the soul is of itself . . . . all else has reference […]
  20. p. x, line 107[…] henceforth to be well thought or done by you whoever you are, or by any one—these singly and wholly inured […]
  21. p. x, line 112[…] from which they sprung or shall spring . . . Did you guess any of them lived only its moment? The world […]
  22. p. 13, line 2And what I assume you shall assume,
  23. p. 13, line 3For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
  24. p. 14, line 1Have you reckoned a thousand acres much? Have you reckoned the earth much?
  25. p. 14, line 2Have you practiced so long to learn to read?
  26. p. 14, line 3Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?
  27. p. 14, line 4Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems,
  28. p. 14, line 5You shall possess the good of the earth and sun . . . . there are millions of suns left,
  29. p. 14, line 6You shall no longer take things at second or third hand . . . . nor look through the eyes of the dead . . . . nor feed on the spectres in books,
  30. p. 14, line 7You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me,
  31. p. 14, line 8You shall listen to all sides and filter them from yourself.
  32. p. 15, line 22I believe in you my soul . . . . the other I am must not abase itself to you,
  33. p. 15, line 23And you must not be abased to the other.
  34. p. 15, line 28You settled your head athwart my hips and gently turned over upon me,
  35. p. 15, line 30And reached till you felt my beard, and reached till you held my feet.
  36. p. 16, line 19Tenderly will I use you curling grass,
  37. p. 16, line 20It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men,
  38. p. 16, line 22It may be you are from old people and from women, and from offspring taken soon out of their mothers' laps,
  39. p. 16, line 23And here you are the mothers' laps.
  40. p. 17, line 1What do you think has become of the young and old men?
  41. p. 17, line 2And what do you think has become of the women and children?
  42. p. 17, line 24Undrape . . . . you are not guilty to me, nor stale nor discarded,
  43. p. 18, line 32You should have been with us that day round the chowder-kettle.
  44. p. 19, line 22Where are you off to, lady? for I see you,
  45. p. 19, line 23You splash in the water there, yet stay stock still in your room.
  46. p. 20, line 20Oxen that rattle the yoke or halt in the shade, what is that you express in your eyes?
  47. p. 22, line 31(Miserable! I do not laugh at your oaths nor jeer you,)
  48. p. 24, line 28Have you heard that it was good to gain the day?
  49. p. 25, line 13Do you guess I have some intricate purpose?
  50. p. 25, line 15Do you take it I would astonish?
  51. p. 25, line 19I might not tell everybody but I will tell you.
  52. p. 25, line 22What is a man anyhow? What am I? and what are you?
  53. p. 25, line 23All I mark as my own you shall offset it with your own,
  54. p. 26, line 22I laugh at what you call dissolution,
  55. p. 27, line 1Have you outstript the rest? Are you the President?
  56. p. 27, line 16Prodigal! you have given me love! . . . . therefore I to you give love!
  57. p. 27, line 20You sea! I resign myself to you also . . . . I guess what you mean,
  58. p. 27, line 22I believe you refuse to go back without feeling of me;
  59. p. 27, line 25Dash me with amorous wet . . . . I can repay you.
  60. p. 27, line 30I am integral with you . . . . I too am of one phase and of all phases.
  61. p. 28, line 6Did you fear some scrofula out of the unflagging pregnancy?
  62. p. 28, line 7Did you guess the celestial laws are yet to be worked over and rectified?
  63. p. 28, line 26Gentlemen I receive you, and attach and clasp hands with you,
  64. p. 30, line 2Translucent mould of me it shall be you,
  65. p. 30, line 3Shaded ledges and rests, firm masculine coulter, it shall be you,
  66. p. 30, line 4Whatever goes to the tilth of me it shall be you,
  67. p. 30, line 5You my rich blood, your milky stream pale strippings of my life;
  68. p. 30, line 6Breast that presses against other breasts it shall be you,
  69. p. 30, line 8Root of washed sweet-flag, timorous pond-snipe, nest of guarded duplicate eggs, it shall be you,
  70. p. 30, line 9Mixed tussled hay of head and beard and brawn it shall be you,
  71. p. 30, line 10Trickling sap of maple, fibre of manly wheat, it shall be you;
  72. p. 30, line 11Sun so generous it shall be you,
  73. p. 30, line 12Vapors lighting and shading my face it shall be you,
  74. p. 30, line 13You sweaty brooks and dews it shall be you,
  75. p. 30, line 14Winds whose soft-tickling genitals rub against me it shall be you,
  76. p. 30, line 15Broad muscular fields, branches of liveoak, loving lounger in my winding paths, it shall be you,
  77. p. 30, line 16Hands I have taken, face I have kissed, mortal I have ever touched, it shall be you.
  78. p. 30, line 33The mocking taunt, See then whether you shall be master!
  79. p. 31, line 7It says sarcastically, Walt, you understand enough . . . . why don't you let it out then?
  80. p. 31, line 8Come now I will not be tantalized . . . . you conceive too much of articulation.
  81. p. 31, line 9Do you not know how the buds beneath are folded?
  82. p. 31, line 15My final merit I refuse you . . . . I refuse putting from me the best I am.
  83. p. 31, line 17I crowd your noisiest talk by looking toward you.
  84. p. 33, line 12You villain touch! what are you doing? . . . . my breath is tight in its throat;
  85. p. 33, line 13Unclench your floodgates! you are too much for me.
  86. p. 33, line 15Did it make you ache so leaving me?
  87. p. 35, line 10I but use you a moment and then I resign you stallion . . . . and do not need your paces, and outgallop them,
  88. p. 35, line 11And myself as I stand or sit pass faster than you.
  89. p. 39, line 3And chalked in large letters on a board, Be of good cheer, We will not desert you;
  90. p. 41, line 9Did you read in the seabooks of the oldfashioned frigate-fight?
  91. p. 41, line 10Did you learn who won by the light of the moon and stars?
  92. p. 41, line 11Our foe was no skulk in his ship, I tell you,
  93. p. 44, line 1Eleves I salute you,
  94. p. 44, line 2I see the approach of your numberless gangs . . . . I see you understand yourselves and me,
  95. p. 44, line 5And are aware how I am with you no more than I am with everybody.
  96. p. 44, line 17You light surfaces only . . . . I force the surfaces and the depths also.
  97. p. 44, line 18Earth! you seem to look for something at my hands,
  98. p. 44, line 19Say old topknot! what do you want?
  99. p. 44, line 20Man or woman! I might tell how I like you, but cannot,
  100. p. 44, line 21And might tell what it is in me and what it is in you, but cannot,
  101. p. 44, line 25You there, impotent, loose in the knees, open your scarfed chops till I blow grit within you,
  102. p. 45, line 1I do not ask who you are . . . . that is not important to me,
  103. p. 45, line 2You can do nothing and be nothing but what I will infold you.
  104. p. 45, line 12By God! you shall not go down! Hang your whole weight upon me.
  105. p. 45, line 13I dilate you with tremendous breath . . . . I buoy you up;
  106. p. 45, line 16Not doubt, not decease shall dare to lay finger upon you,
  107. p. 45, line 17I have embraced you, and henceforth possess you to myself,
  108. p. 45, line 18And when you rise in the morning you will find what I tell you is so.
  109. p. 47, line 25And would fetch you whoever you are flush with myself.
  110. p. 48, line 5The saints and sages in history . . . . but you yourself?
  111. p. 48, line 7I do not despise you priests;
  112. p. 48, line 26I know every one of you, and know the unspoken interrogatories,
  113. p. 48, line 31I take my place among you as much as among any;
  114. p. 49, line 1The past is the push of you and me and all precisely the same,
  115. p. 49, line 2And the night is for you and me and all,
  116. p. 49, line 3And what is yet untried and afterward is for you and me and all.
  117. p. 49, line 28Were mankind murderous or jealous upon you my brother or my sister?
  118. p. 50, line 1I am sorry for you . . . . they are not murderous or jealous upon me;
  119. p. 51, line 15If I and you and the worlds and all beneath or upon their surfaces, and all the palpable life, were this moment reduced back to a pallid float, it would not avail in the long run,
  120. p. 52, line 1But each man and each woman of you I lead upon a knoll,
  121. p. 52, line 2My left hand hooks you round the waist,
  122. p. 52, line 4Not I, not any one else can travel that road for you,
  123. p. 52, line 5You must travel it for yourself.
  124. p. 52, line 7Perhaps you have been on it since you were born, and did not know,
  125. p. 52, line 11If you tire, give me both burdens, and rest the chuff of your hand on my hip,
  126. p. 52, line 12And in due time you shall repay the same service to me;
  127. p. 52, line 17You are also asking me questions, and I hear you;
  128. p. 52, line 18I answer that I cannot answer . . . . you must find out for yourself.
  129. p. 52, line 21But as soon as you sleep and renew yourself in sweet clothes I will certainly kiss you with my goodbye kiss and open the gate for your egress hence.
  130. p. 52, line 22Long enough have you dreamed contemptible dreams,
  131. p. 52, line 24You must habit yourself to the dazzle of the light and of every moment of your life
  132. p. 52, line 25Long have you timidly waded, holding a plank by the shore,
  133. p. 52, line 26Now I will you to be a bold swimmer,
  134. p. 53, line 8I follow you whoever you are from the present hour;
  135. p. 53, line 9My words itch at your ears till you understand them.
  136. p. 53, line 11It is you talking just as much as myself . . . . I act as the tongue of you,
  137. p. 53, line 15If you would understand me go to the heights or water-shore,
  138. p. 54, line 1And I or you pocketless of a dime may purchase the pick of the earth,
  139. p. 54, line 16And as to you death, and you bitter hug of mortality . . . . it is idle to try to alarm me.
  140. p. 54, line 20And as to you corpse I think you are good manure, but that does not offend me,
  141. p. 54, line 23And as to you life, I reckon you are the leavings of many deaths,
  142. p. 54, line 25I hear you whispering there O stars of heaven,
  143. p. 54, line 26O suns . . . . O grass of graves . . . . O perpetual transfers and promotions . . . . if you do not say anything how can I say anything?
  144. p. 55, line 12Do you see O my brothers and sisters?
  145. p. 55, line 16Listener up there! Here you . . . . what have you to confide to me?
  146. p. 55, line 18Talk honestly, for no one else hears you, and I stay only a minute longer.
  147. p. 55, line 25Will you speak before I am gone? Will you prove already too late?
  148. p. 56, line 6If you want me again look for me under your bootsoles.
  149. p. 56, line 7You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
  150. p. 56, line 8But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
  151. p. 56, line 12I stop some where waiting for you
  152. p. 57, line 3Yield closer and closer and give me the best you possess.
  153. p. 57, line 4This is unfinished business with me . . . . how is it with you?
  154. p. 57, line 7I do not thank you for liking me as I am, and liking the touch of me . . . . I know that it is good for you to do so.
  155. p. 57, line 10Were I to you as the boss employing and paying you, would that satisfy you?
  156. p. 57, line 15I will be even with you, and you shall be even with me.
  157. p. 57, line 16If you are a workman or workwoman I stand as nigh as the nighest that works in the same shop,
  158. p. 57, line 17If you bestow gifts on your brother or dearest friend, I demand as good as your brother or dearest friend,
  159. p. 58, line 1If you have become degraded or ill, then I will become so for your sake;
  160. p. 58, line 2If you remember your foolish and outlawed deeds, do you think I cannot remember my foolish and outlawed deeds?
  161. p. 58, line 3If you carouse at the table I say I will carouse at the opposite side of the table;
  162. p. 58, line 4If you meet some stranger in the street and love him or her, do I not often meet strangers in the street and love them?
  163. p. 58, line 5If you see a good deal remarkable in me I see just as much remarkable in you.
  164. p. 58, line 6Why what have you thought of yourself?
  165. p. 58, line 7Is it you then that thought yourself less?
  166. p. 58, line 8Is it you that thought the President greater than you? or the rich better off than you? or the educated wiser than you?
  167. p. 58, line 9Because you are greasy or pimpled—or that you was once drunk, or a thief, or diseased, or rheumatic, or a prostitute—or are so now—or from frivolity or impotence—or that you are no scholar, and never saw your name in print . . . . do you give in that you are any less immortal?
  168. p. 58, line 10Souls of men and women! it is not you I call unseen, unheard, untouchable and untouching;
  169. p. 58, line 11It is not you I go argue pro and con about, and to settle whether you are alive or no;
  170. p. 58, line 12I own publicly who you are, if nobody else owns . . . . aud see and hear you, and what you give and take;
  171. p. 58, line 13What is there you cannot give and take?
  172. p. 58, line 14I see not merely that you are polite or whitefaced . . . . married or single . . . . citizens of old states or citizens of new states . . . . eminent in some profession . . . . a lady or gentleman in a parlor . . . . or dressed in the jail uniform . . . . or pulpit uniform,
  173. p. 59, line 6I bring what you much need, yet always have,
  174. p. 59, line 12It is for you whoever you are . . . . it is no farther from you than your hearing and sight are from you,
  175. 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?
  176. p. 59, line 14You may read in many languages and read nothing about it;
  177. p. 59, line 15You may read the President's message and read nothing about it there,
  178. p. 60, line 1Have you reckoned them as mainly for a trade or farmwork? or for the profits of a store? or to achieve yourself a position? or to fill a gentleman's leisure or a lady's leisure?
  179. p. 60, line 2Have you reckoned the landscape took substance and form that it might be painted in a picture?
  180. p. 60, line 13I am this day just as much in love with them as you,
  181. p. 60, line 14But I am eternally in love with you and with all my fellows upon the earth.
  182. p. 60, line 16I say they have all grown out of you and may grow out of you still,
  183. p. 60, line 17It is not they who give the life . . . . it is you who give the life;
  184. p. 60, line 18Leaves are not more shed from the trees or trees from the earth than they are shed out of you.
  185. p. 60, line 19The sum of all known value and respect I add up in you whoever you are;
  186. p. 60, line 20The President is up there in the White House for you . . . . it is not you who are here for him,
  187. p. 60, line 21The Secretaries act in their bureaus for you . . . . not you here for them,
  188. p. 60, line 22The Congress convenes every December for you,
  189. p. 60, line 23Laws, courts, the forming of states, the charters of cities, the going and coming of commerce and mails are all for you.
  190. p. 60, line 24All doctrines, all politics and civilization exurge from you,
  191. p. 60, line 25All sculpture and monuments and anything inscribed anywhere are tallied in you,
  192. p. 60, line 26The gist of histories and statistics as far back as the records reach is in you this hour—and myths and tales the same;
  193. p. 60, line 27If you were not breathing and walking here where would they all be?
  194. p. 61, line 1All architecture is what you do to it when you look upon it;
  195. p. 61, line 2Did you think it was in the white or gray stone? or the lines of the arches and cornices?
  196. p. 61, line 3All music is what awakens from you when you are reminded by the instruments,
  197. p. 61, line 8Does all sit there with you and here with me?
  198. p. 61, line 9The old forever new things . . . . you foolish child! . . . . the closest simplest things —this moment with you,
  199. p. 61, line 12Anything you do in public by day, and anything you do in secret betweendays,
  200. p. 61, line 13What is called right and what is called wrong . . . . what you behold or touch . . . . what causes your anger or wonder,
  201. p. 61, line 18(What is it that you made money? what is it that you got what you wanted?)
  202. p. 62, line 11The paper I write on or you write on . . and every word we write . . and every cross and twirl of the pen . . and the curious way we write what we think . . . . yet very faintly;
  203. p. 63, line 15The cotton and woolen and linen you wear . . . . the money you make and spend;
  204. p. 63, line 17The house you live in . . . . the rent . . . . the other tenants . . . . the deposite in the savings-bank . . . . the trade at the grocery,
  205. p. 63, line 19In them the heft of the heaviest . . . . in them far more than you estimated, and far less also,
  206. p. 63, line 20In them, not yourself . . . . you and your soul enclose all things, regardless of estimation,
  207. p. 63, line 22I do not affirm what you see beyond is futile . . . . I do not advise you to stop,
  208. p. 63, line 23I do not say leadings you thought great are not great,
  209. p. 63, line 25Will you seek afar off? You surely come back at last,
  210. p. 63, line 26In things best known to you finding the best or as good as the best,
  211. p. 64, line 1In folks nearest to you finding also the sweetest and strongest and lovingest,
  212. p. 64, line 3Man in the first you see or touch . . . . always in your friend or brother or nighest neighbor . . . . Woman in your mother or lover or wife,
  213. p. 65, line 3Have you guessed you yourself would not continue? Have you dreaded those earth-beetles?
  214. p. 65, line 4Have you feared the future would be nothing to you?
  215. p. 65, line 8To think that you and I did not see feel think nor bear our part,
  216. p. 67, line 1Somebody loafing on you, or you loafing on somebody . . . . headway . . . . man before and man behind,
  217. p. 67, line 6The vulgar and the refined . . . . what you call sin and what you call goodness . . to think how wide a difference;
  218. p. 67, line 9Have you pleasure from looking at the sky? Have you pleasure from poems?
  219. p. 67, line 10Do you enjoy yourself in the city? or engaged in business? or planning a nomination and election? or with your wife and family?
  220. p. 67, line 12These also flow onward to others . . . . you and I flow onward;
  221. p. 67, line 13But in due time you and I shall take less interest in them.
  222. p. 67, line 14Your farm and profits and crops . . . . to think how engrossed you are;
  223. p. 67, line 15To think there will still be farms and profits and crops . . yet for you of what avail?
  224. p. 67, line 23You are not thrown to the winds . . you gather certainly and safely around yourself,
  225. p. 68, line 1It is not to diffuse you that you were born of your mother and father—it is to identify you,
  226. p. 68, line 2It is not that you should be undecided, but that you should be decided;
  227. p. 68, line 3Something long preparing and formless is arrived and formed in you,
  228. p. 68, line 4You are thenceforth secure, whatever comes or goes.
  229. p. 69, line 13Do you suspect death? If I were to suspect death I should die now,
  230. p. 69, line 14Do you think I could walk pleasantly and well-suited toward annihilation?
  231. p. 69, line 24O my soul! if I realize you I have satisfaction,
  232. p. 69, line 25Animals and vegetables! if I realize you I have satisfaction,
  233. p. 69, line 26Laws of the earth and air! if I realize you I have satisfaction.
  234. p. 72, line 1I roll myself upon you as upon a bed . . . . I resign myself to the dusk.
  235. p. 72, line 4Darkness you are gentler than my lover . . . . his flesh was sweaty and panting,
  236. p. 72, line 7I would sound up the shadowy shore to which you are journeying.
  237. p. 72, line 15Pier out from the main, let me catch myself with you and stay . . . . I will not chafe you;
  238. p. 73, line 7What are you doing you ruffianly red-trickled waves?
  239. p. 73, line 8Will you kill the courageous giant? Will you kill him in the prime of his middle age?
  240. p. 75, line 1O love and summer! you are in the dreams and in me,
  241. p. 76, line 28I stay awhile away O night, but I return to you again and love you;
  242. p. 77, line 1Why should I be afraid to trust myself to you?
  243. p. 77, line 2I am not afraid . . . . I have been well brought forward by you;
  244. p. 77, line 4I know not how I came of you, and I know not where I go with you . . . . but I know I came well and shall go well.
  245. p. 77, line 6I will duly pass the day O my mother and duly return to you;
  246. p. 77, line 7Not you will yield forth the dawn again more surely than you will yield forth me again,
  247. p. 77, line 8Not the womb yields the babe in its time more surely than I shall be yielded from you in my time.
  248. p. 78, line 3You linger to see his back and the back of his neck and shoulderside.
  249. p. 79, line 4When he went with his five sons and many grandsons to hunt or fish you would pick him out as the most beautiful and vigorous of the gang,
  250. 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.
  251. p. 80, line 2You are the gates of the body and you are the gates of the soul.
  252. p. 80, line 17Each belongs here or anywhere just as much as the welloff . . . . just as much as you,
  253. p. 80, line 21Do you know so much that you call the slave or the dullface ignorant?
  254. p. 80, line 22Do you suppose you have a right to a good sight . . . and he or she has no right to a sight?
  255. p. 80, line 23Do you think matter has cohered together from its diffused float, and the soil is on the surface and water runs and vegetation sprouts for you . . and not for him and her?
  256. p. 81, line 8They shall be stript that you may see them.
  257. p. 81, line 14Do you think they are not there because they are not expressed in parlors and lecture-rooms?
  258. p. 81, line 18How do you know who shall come from the offspring of his offspring through the centuries?
  259. p. 81, line 19Who might you find you have come from yourself if you could trace back through the centuries?
  260. p. 81, line 26Have you ever loved a woman?
  261. p. 82, line 1Your mother . . . . is she living? . . . . Have you been much with her? and has she been much with you?
  262. p. 82, line 2Do you not see that these are exactly the same to all in all nations and times all over the earth?
  263. p. 82, line 6Have you seen the fool that corrupted his own live body? or the fool that corrupted her own live body?
  264. p. 83, line 8Do you suppose I could be content with all if I thought them their own finale?
  265. p. 83, line 27Features of my equals, would you trick me with your creased and cadaverous march?
  266. p. 83, line 28Well then you cannot trick me.
  267. p. 84, line 1Splay and twist as you like . . . . poke with the tangling fores of fishes or rats,
  268. p. 84, line 2You'll be unmuzzled . . . . you certainly will.
  269. p. 84, line 28Stand at my side till I lean as high as I can upon you,
  270. p. 86, line 12It is vain to skulk . . . . Do you hear that mocking and laughter? Do you hear the ironical echoes?
  271. p. 86, line 22He says indifferently and alike, How are you friend? to the President at his levee,
  272. p. 87, line 16You think it would be good to be the writer of melodious verses,
  273. p. 87, line 18But what are verses beyond the flowing character you could have? . . . . or beyond beautiful manners and behaviour?
  274. p. 88, line 1And you, paid to defile the People . . . . you liars mark:
  275. p. 88, line 22They live in brothers, again ready to defy you:
  276. p. 88, line 28Liberty let others despair of you . . . . I never despair of you.
  277. p. 89, line 16What troubles you, Yankee phantoms? What is all this chattering of bare gums?
  278. p. 89, line 17Does the ague convulse your limbs? Do you mistake your crutches for firelocks, and level them?
  279. p. 89, line 18If you blind your eyes with tears you will not see the President's marshal,
  280. p. 89, line 19If you groan such groans you might balk the government cannon.
  281. p. 89, line 23Worse and worse . . . . Can't you stand it? Are you retreating?
  282. p. 89, line 24Is this hour with the living too dead for you?
  283. p. 89, line 26I do not think you belong here anyhow.
  284. p. 89, line 27But there is one thing that belongs here . . . . Shall I tell you what it is, gentlemen of Boston?
  285. p. 90, line 2Find a swift Yankee clipper . . . . here is freight for you blackbellied clipper,
  286. p. 90, line 10You have got your revenge old buster! . . . . The crown is come to its own and more than its own.
  287. p. 90, line 11Stick your hands in your pockets Jonathan . . . . you are a made man from this day,
  288. p. 90, line 12You are mighty cute . . . . and here is one of your bargains.
  289. p. 92, line 23And that my soul embraces you this hour, and we affect each other without ever seeing each other, and never perhaps to see each other, is every bit as wonderful:
  290. p. 92, line 25And that I can remind you, and you think them and know them to be true is just as wonderful,
  291. p. 93, line 3Come I should like to hear you tell me what there is in yourself that is not just as wonderful,
  292. p. 93, line 9Helmsmen of nations, choose your craft . . . . where you sail I sail,
  293. p. 93, line 10Yours is the muscle of life or death . . . . yours is the perfect science . . . . in you I have absolute faith.
  294. p. 93, line 24Do you know that old age may come after you with equal grace and force and fascination?
  295. p. 94, line 8Do you imagine it is stopped at this? . . . . and the increase abandoned?
  296. p. 94, line 16O truth of the earth! O truth of things! I am determined to press the whole way toward you,
  297. p. 94, line 17Sound your voice! I scale mountains or dive in the sea after you.
  298. p. 95, line 14Do you call that a paradox? It certainly is a paradox.