Whitman, as Printed

‹ Leaves of Grass, 1891–92

The lines with “his”

his 383 Back to H

  1. p. 11, line 7I, habitan of the Alleghanies, treating of him as he is in himself in his own rights,
  2. p. 12, line 24To fashion his eidólon.
  3. p. 13, line 27Beyond the doctor's surgery, anatomy, beyond the chemist with his chemistry,
  4. p. 16, line 18As a father to his father going takes his children along with him.
  5. p. 17, line 2Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong,
  6. p. 17, line 3The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam,
  7. p. 17, line 4The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work,
  8. p. 17, line 5The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deck-hand singing on the steamboat deck,
  9. p. 17, line 6The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands,
  10. p. 17, line 7The wood-cutter's song, the ploughboy's on his way in the morning, or at noon intermission or at sundown,
  11. p. 18, line 7I am a man who, sauntering along without fully stopping, turns a casual look upon you and then averts his face,
  12. p. 24, line 4I have paus'd to hear him near at hand inflating his throat and joyfully singing.
  13. p. 24, line 6Nor for his mate nor himself only, nor all sent back by the echoes,
  14. p. 35, line 8The heavy omnibus, the driver with his interrogating thumb, the clank of the shod horses on the granite floor,
  15. p. 35, line 13The excited crowd, the policeman with his star quickly working his passage to the centre of the crowd,
  16. p. 36, line 12Her father and his friends sat near cross-legged and dumbly smoking, they had moccasins to their feet and large thick blankets hanging from their shoulders,
  17. p. 36, line 13On a bank lounged the trapper, he was drest mostly in skins, his luxuriant beard and curls protected his neck, he held his bride by the hand,
  18. p. 36, line 16I heard his motions crackling the twigs of the woodpile,
  19. p. 36, line 19And brought water and fill'd a tub for his sweated body and bruis'd feet,
  20. p. 36, line 21And remember perfectly well his revolving eyes and his awkwardness,
  21. p. 36, line 22And remember putting plasters on the galls of his neck and ankles;
  22. p. 37, line 19The butcher-boy puts off his killing-clothes, or sharpens his knife at the stall in the market,
  23. p. 37, line 20I loiter enjoying his repartee and his shuffle and break-down.
  24. p. 37, line 22Each has his main-sledge, they are all out, there is a great heat in the fire.
  25. p. 37, line 26They do not hasten, each man hits in his place.
  26. p. 38, line 1The negro holds firmly the reins of his four horses, the block swags underneath on its tied-over chain,
  27. p. 38, line 3His blue shirt exposes his ample neck and breast and loosens over his hip-band,
  28. p. 38, line 4His glance is calm and commanding, he tosses the slouch of his hat away from his forehead,
  29. p. 38, line 5The sun falls on his crispy hair and mustache, falls on the black of his polish'd and perfect limbs.
  30. p. 38, line 21The wild gander leads his flock through the cool night,
  31. p. 39, line 17The carpenter dresses his plank, the tongue of his foreplane whistles its wild ascending lisp,
  32. p. 39, line 26(He will never sleep any more as he did in the cot in his mother's bed-room;)
  33. p. 39, line 27The jour printer with gray head and gaunt jaws works at his case,
  34. p. 39, line 28He turns his quid of tobacco while his eyes blurr with the manuscript;
  35. p. 40, line 2The machinist rolls up his sleeves, the policeman travels his beat, the gate-keeper marks who pass,
  36. p. 40, line 4The half-breed straps on his light boots to compete in the race,
  37. p. 40, line 6Out from the crowd steps the marksman, takes his position, levels his piece;
  38. p. 40, line 8As the woolly-pates hoe in the sugar-field, the overseer views them from his saddle,
  39. p. 40, line 18The paving-man leans on his two-handed rammer, the reporter's lead flies swiftly over the note-book, the sign-painter is lettering with blue and gold,
  40. p. 40, line 19The canal boy trots on the tow-path, the book-keeper counts at his desk, the shoemaker waxes his thread,
  41. p. 40, line 21The child is baptized, the convert is making his first professions,
  42. p. 40, line 23The drover watching his drove sings out to them that would stray,
  43. p. 40, line 24The pedler sweats with his pack on his back, (the purchaser higgling about the odd cent;)
  44. p. 41, line 9The Missourian crosses the plains toting his wares and his cattle,
  45. p. 41, line 12In single file each shouldering his hod pass onward the laborers;
  46. p. 41, line 16The stumps stand thick round the clearing, the squatter strikes deep with his axe,
  47. p. 41, line 24The old husband sleeps by his wife and the young husband sleeps by his wife;
  48. p. 51, line 9The judge with hands tight to the desk, his pallid lips pronouncing a death-sentence,
  49. p. 51, line 21The orbic flex of his mouth is pouring and filling me full.
  50. p. 54, line 26Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago,
  51. p. 55, line 10His nostrils dilate as my heels embrace him,
  52. p. 55, line 11His well-built limbs tremble with pleasure as we race around and return.
  53. p. 55, line 28Where the rattlesnake suns his flabby length on a rock, where the otter is feeding on fish,
  54. p. 55, line 29Where the alligator in his tough pimples sleeps by the bayou,
  55. p. 56, line 1Where the black bear is searching for roots or honey, where the beaver pats the mud with his paddle-shaped tail;
  56. p. 57, line 5Where the mocking-bird sounds his delicious gurgles, cackles, screams, weeps,
  57. p. 57, line 7Where the bull advances to do his masculine work, where the stud to the mare, where the cock is treading the hen,
  58. p. 60, line 1The twinges that sting like needles his legs and neck, the murderous buckshot and the bullets,
  59. p. 61, line 6Again gurgles the mouth of my dying general, he furiously waves with his hand,
  60. p. 62, line 3A youth not seventeen years old seiz'd his assassin till two more came to release him,
  61. p. 62, line 10Our foe was no skulk in his ship I tell you, (said he,)
  62. p. 62, line 11His was the surly English pluck, and there is no tougher or truer, and never was, and never will be;
  63. p. 62, line 14My captain lash'd fast with his own hands.
  64. p. 63, line 3Two well serv'd with grape and canister silence his musketry and clear his decks.
  65. p. 63, line 10He is not hurried, his voice is neither high nor low,
  66. p. 63, line 11His eyes give more light to us than our battle-lanterns.
  67. p. 63, line 16The captain on the quarter-deck coldly giving his orders through a countenance white as a sheet,
  68. p. 63, line 26The hiss of the surgeon's knife, the gnawing teeth of his saw,
  69. p. 64, line 10Not a mutineer walks handcuff'd to jail but I am handcuff'd to him and walk by his side,
  70. p. 65, line 20They descend in new forms from the tips of his fingers,
  71. p. 65, line 21They are wafted with the odor of his body or breath, they fly out of the glance of his eyes.
  72. p. 66, line 13On his right cheek I put the family kiss,
  73. p. 67, line 7Lithographing Kronos, Zeus his son, and Hercules his grandson,
  74. p. 67, line 16Putting higher claims for him there with his roll'd-up sleeves driving the mallet and chisel,
  75. p. 67, line 24Selling all he possesses, traveling on foot to fee lawyers for his brother and sit by him while he is tried for forgery;
  76. p. 68, line 7Now the performer launches his nerve, he has pass'd his prelude on the reeds within.
  77. p. 70, line 19Nor the young woman who died and was put by his side,
  78. p. 73, line 1My sun has his sun and round him obediently wheels,
  79. p. 73, line 2He joins with his partners a group of superior circuit,
  80. p. 73, line 18No friend of mine takes his ease in my chair,
  81. p. 74, line 23The boy I love, the same becomes a man not through derived power, but in his own right,
  82. p. 75, line 2Fond of his sweetheart, relishing well his steak,
  83. p. 75, line 21The woodman that takes his axe and jug with him shall take me with him all day,
  84. p. 76, line 1My face rubs to the hunter's face when he lies down alone in his blanket,
  85. p. 76, line 2The driver thinking of me does not mind the jolt of his wagon,
  86. p. 76, line 9And whoever walks a furlong without sympathy walks to his own funeral drest in his shroud,
  87. p. 77, line 2To his work without flinching the accoucheur comes,
  88. p. 78, line 13Who has done his day's work? who will soonest be through with his supper?
  89. p. 80, line 13The swimmer swimming naked in the bath, or motionless on his back lying and floating,
  90. p. 81, line 27But the expression of a well-made man appears not only in his face,
  91. p. 82, line 1It is in his limbs and joints also, it is curiously in the joints of his hips and wrists,
  92. p. 82, line 2It is in his walk, the carriage of his neck, the flex of his waist and knees, dress does not hide him,
  93. p. 82, line 5You linger to see his back, and the back of his neck and shoulder-side.
  94. p. 82, line 7The swimmer naked in the swimming-bath, seen as he swims through the transparent green-shine, or lies with his face up and rolls silently to and fro in the heave of the water,
  95. p. 82, line 8The bending forward and backward of rowers in row-boats, the horseman in his saddle,
  96. p. 82, line 12The young fellow hoeing corn, the sleigh-driver driving his six horses through the crowd,
  97. p. 83, line 2The shape of his head, the pale yellow and white of his hair and beard, the immeasurable meaning of his black eyes, the richness and breadth of his manners,
  98. p. 83, line 4He was six feet tall, he was over eighty years old, his sons were massive, clean, bearded, tan-faced, handsome,
  99. p. 83, line 5They and his daughters loved him, all who saw him loved him,
  100. p. 83, line 7He drank water only, the blood show'd like scarlet through the clear-brown skin of his face,
  101. p. 83, line 8He was a frequent gunner and fisher, he sail'd his boat himself, he had a fine one presented to him by a ship-joiner, he had fowling-pieces presented to him by men that loved him,
  102. p. 83, line 9When he went with his five sons and many grand-sons to hunt or fish, you would pick him out as the most beautiful and vigorous of the gang,
  103. p. 83, line 14To pass among them or touch any one, or rest my arm ever so lightly round his or her neck for a moment, what is this then?
  104. p. 84, line 19The male is not less the soul nor more, he too is in his place,
  105. p. 85, line 7Each has his or her place in the procession.
  106. p. 85, line 16I help the auctioneer, the sloven does not half know his business.
  107. p. 86, line 8How do you know who shall come from the offspring of his offspring through the centuries?
  108. p. 86, line 19Have you seen the fool that corrupted his own live body? or the fool that corrupted her own live body?
  109. p. 88, line 14Without shame the man I like knows and avows the deliciousness of his sex,
  110. p. 90, line 8The hairy wild-bee that murmurs and hankers up and down, that gripes the full-grown lady-flower, curves upon her with amorous firm legs, takes his will of her, and holds himself tremulous and tight till he is satisfied;
  111. p. 101, line 21At the close of his crowded course.)
  112. p. 102, line 6The dear love of man for his comrade, the attraction of friend to friend,
  113. p. 102, line 12The friend the lover's portrait, of whom his friend his lover was fondest,
  114. p. 102, line 13Who was not proud of his songs, but of the measureless ocean of love within him, and freely pour'd it forth,
  115. p. 102, line 14Who often walk'd lonesome walks thinking of his dear friends, his lovers,
  116. p. 102, line 18Who oft as he saunter'd the streets curv'd with his arm the shoulder of his friend, while the arm of his friend rested upon him also.
  117. p. 103, line 4And when I thought how my dear friend my lover was on his way coming, O then I was happy,
  118. p. 103, line 10In the stillness in the autumn moonbeams his face was inclined toward me,
  119. p. 103, line 11And his arm lay lightly around my breast—and that night I was happy.
  120. p. 104, line 13Not these, O none of these more than the flames of me, consuming, burning for his love whom I love,
  121. p. 107, line 19Nor the President in his Presidency, nor the rich in his great house,
  122. p. 110, line 7While the one to depart tightly prest the one to remain in his arms.
  123. p. 113, line 16I hear the Hebrew reading his records and psalms,
  124. p. 113, line 19I hear the Hindoo teaching his favorite pupil the loves, wars, adages, transmitted safely to this day from poets who wrote three thousand years ago.
  125. p. 116, line 1I see Christ eating the bread of his last supper in the midst of youths and old persons,
  126. p. 116, line 4I see Kneph, blooming, drest in blue, with the crown of feathers on his head,
  127. p. 116, line 7I return to the celestial sphere where every one goes in his turn.
  128. p. 117, line 3I see the Wacho crossing the plains, I see the incomparable rider of horses with his lasso on his arm,
  129. p. 117, line 7I see the seal-seeker in his boat poising his lance,
  130. p. 117, line 8I see the Siberian on his slight-built sledge drawn by dogs,
  131. p. 117, line 24I see the Kruman in his hut, and the Dahoman and Ashantee-man in their huts,
  132. p. 119, line 19Each of us limitless—each of us with his or her right upon the earth,
  133. p. 121, line 16The black with his woolly head, the felon, the diseas'd, the illiterate person, are not denied;
  134. p. 124, line 18What with some driver as I ride on the seat by his side?
  135. p. 124, line 19What with some fisherman drawing his seine by the shore as I walk by and pause?
  136. p. 129, line 4Let the preacher preach in his pulpit! let the lawyer plead in the court, and the judge expound the law.
  137. p. 134, line 16A young man comes to me bearing a message from his brother,
  138. p. 134, line 17How shall the young man know the whether and when of his brother?
  139. p. 134, line 19And I stand before the young man face to face, and take his right hand in my left hand and his left hand in my right hand,
  140. p. 134, line 20And I answer for his brother and for men, and I answer for him that answers for all, and send these signs.
  141. p. 134, line 21Him all wait for, him all yield up to, his word is decisive and final,
  142. p. 135, line 10He places his own times, reminiscences, parents, brothers and sisters, associations, employment, politics, so that the rest never shame them afterward, nor assume to command them.
  143. p. 135, line 19His welcome is universal, the flow of beauty is not more welcome or universal than he is,
  144. p. 136, line 1He resolves all tongues into his own and bestows it upon men, and any man translates, and any man translates himself also,
  145. p. 136, line 3He says indifferently and alike How are you friend? to the President at his levee,
  146. p. 136, line 5And both understand him and know that his speech is right.
  147. p. 136, line 13No matter what the nation, that he might find his brothers and sisters there.
  148. p. 136, line 19The gentleman of perfect blood acknowledges his perfect blood,
  149. p. 137, line 5His insight and power encircle things and the human race,
  150. p. 138, line 4They bring none to his or her terminus or to be content and full,
  151. p. 140, line 9Children at play, or on his father's lap a young boy fallen asleep, (how his lips move! how he smiles in his sleep!)
  152. p. 140, line 10The scout riding on horseback over the plains west of the Mississippi, he ascends a knoll and sweeps his eyes around;
  153. p. 140, line 11California life, the miner, bearded, dress'd in his rude costume, the stanch California friendship, the sweet air, the graves one in passing meets solitary just aside the horse-path;
  154. p. 142, line 1In Kanadian forests the moose, large as an ox, corner'd by hunters, rising desperately on his hind-feet, and plunging with his fore-feet, the hoofs as sharp as knives—and I, plunging at the hunters, corner'd and desperate,
  155. p. 143, line 10O the joy of the strong-brawn'd fighter, towering in the arena in perfect condition, conscious of power, thirsting to meet his opponent.
  156. p. 145, line 5To feel the presence of a brave commanding officer—to feel his sympathy!
  157. p. 145, line 6To behold his calmness—to be warm'd in the rays of his smile!
  158. p. 145, line 18I see the harpooneer standing up, I see the weapon dart from his vigorous arm;
  159. p. 145, line 21I see a lance driven through his side, press'd deep, turn'd in the wound,
  160. p. 151, line 6The forger at his forge-furnace and the user of iron after him,
  161. p. 151, line 8The chooser breathing his breath on the cold steel and trying the edge with his thumb,
  162. p. 151, line 14The antique European warrior with his axe in combat,
  163. p. 156, line 12The coffin-shape for the dead to lie within in his shroud,
  164. p. 156, line 18The roof over the supper joyously cook'd by the chaste wife, and joyously eaten by the chaste husband, content after his day's work.
  165. p. 157, line 1The sheriff at hand with his deputies, the silent and white-lipp'd crowd, the dangling of the rope.
  166. p. 157, line 25How near his work is holding him to God,
  167. p. 159, line 13Arthur vanish'd with all his knights, Merlin and Lancelot and Galahad, all gone, dissolv'd utterly like an exhalation;
  168. p. 162, line 19To teach the average man the glory of his daily walk and trade,
  169. p. 168, line 4Here heed himself, unfold himself, (not others' formulas heed,) here fill his time,
  170. p. 173, line 10It is not the violins and the cornets, it is not the oboe nor the beating drums, nor the score of the baritone singer singing his sweet romanza, nor that of the men's chorus, nor that of the women's chorus,
  171. p. 174, line 15Beef on the butcher's stall, the slaughter-house of the butcher, the butcher in his killing-clothes,
  172. p. 179, line 6And no man understands any greatness or goodness but his own, or the indication of his own.
  173. p. 189, line 23I praise no eminent man, I rebuke to his face the one that was thought most worthy.
  174. p. 194, line 19For not the envoys nor the tann'd Japanee from his island only,
  175. p. 196, line 16Over the sterile sands and the fields beyond, where the child leaving his bed wander'd alone, bareheaded, barefoot,
  176. p. 198, line 12He call'd on his mate,
  177. p. 200, line 20The boy ecstatic, with his bare feet the waves, with his hair the atmosphere dallying,
  178. p. 207, line 4The sperm-whale at the surface blowing air and spray, or disporting with his flukes,
  179. p. 210, line 2Every man holds his revolver, marching stiff through Boston town.
  180. p. 210, line 25Dig out King George's coffin, unwrap him quick from the graveclothes, box up his bones for a journey,
  181. p. 211, line 21For court thieving in its manifold mean forms, worming from his simplicity the poor man's wages,
  182. p. 212, line 4Each comes in state with his train, hangman, priest, tax-gatherer,
  183. p. 212, line 27He will soon return, his messengers come anon.
  184. p. 216, line 18She hers, he his, pursuing.
  185. p. 217, line 2I remember I heard the preacher every Sunday put God in his statements,
  186. p. 220, line 6The lawyer leaving his office and arming, the judge leaving the court,
  187. p. 220, line 7The driver deserting his wagon in the street, jumping down, throwing the reins abruptly down on the horses' backs,
  188. p. 220, line 18The tearful parting, the mother kisses her son, the son kisses his mother,
  189. p. 222, line 8Leave not the bridegroom quiet—no happiness must he have now with his bride,
  190. p. 222, line 9Nor the peaceful farmer any peace, ploughing his field or gathering his grain,
  191. p. 222, line 16Would the lawyer rise in the court to state his case before the judge?
  192. p. 230, line 19To the rescue the stalwart giant hurry his plenteous offspring,
  193. p. 232, line 24By his staff surrounded the General stood in the middle, he held up his unsheath'd sword,
  194. p. 233, line 18I saw how he wrung his hands in anguish.
  195. p. 234, line 18As he stood in his boat and look'd toward the coming sun,
  196. p. 237, line 9O this is not our son's writing, yet his name is sign'd,
  197. p. 238, line 19My comrade I wrapt in his blanket, envelop'd well his form,
  198. p. 238, line 21And there and then and bathed by the rising sun, my son in his grave, in his rude-dug grave I deposited,
  199. p. 238, line 25I rose from the chill ground and folded my soldier well in his blanket,
  200. p. 239, line 22But first I bend to the dying lad, his eyes open, a half-smile gives he me,
  201. p. 241, line 4NOT the pilot has charged himself to bring his ship into port, though beaten back and many times baffled;
  202. p. 241, line 6By deserts parch'd, snows chill'd, rivers wet, perseveres till he reaches his destination,
  203. p. 243, line 1One turns to me his appealing eyes—poor boy! I never knew you,
  204. p. 243, line 11Back on his pillow the soldier bends with curv'd neck and side-falling head,
  205. p. 243, line 12His eyes are closed, his face is pale, he dares not look on the bloody stump,
  206. p. 244, line 9GIVE me the splendid silent sun with all his beams full-dazzling,
  207. p. 247, line 24(Old as he was, his gray eyes yet shone out in battle like stars,)
  208. p. 247, line 25His small force was now completely hemm'd in, in his works,
  209. p. 248, line 14The chief-gunner ranges and sights his piece and selects a fuse of the right time,
  210. p. 262, line 18For the sweetest, wisest soul of all my days and lands—and this for his dear sake,
  211. p. 263, line 7My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
  212. p. 266, line 6And that he shall be fittest for his days.
  213. p. 266, line 18His first parts substances, earth, water, animals, trees,
  214. p. 266, line 22Plunging his seminal muscle into its merits and demerits,
  215. p. 267, line 6His spirit surrounding his country's spirit, unclosed to good and evil,
  216. p. 268, line 13The menacing arrogant one that strode and advanced with his senseless scorn, bearing the murderous knife,
  217. p. 269, line 14He is the equalizer of his age and land,
  218. p. 269, line 18The years straying toward infidelity he withholds by his steady faith,
  219. p. 269, line 22His thoughts are the hymns of the praise of things,
  220. p. 272, line 13(The proof of a poet shall be sternly deferr'd till his country absorbs him as affectionately as he has absorb'd it.)
  221. p. 273, line 13(Upon this breast has many a dying soldier lean'd to breathe his last,
  222. p. 283, line 11His own parents, he that had father'd him and she that had conceiv'd him in her womb and birth'd him,
  223. p. 287, line 19And stakes his life to be lost at any moment.)
  224. p. 291, line 2All suggestions of the divine mind of man or the divinity of his mouth, or the shaping of his great hands,
  225. p. 291, line 21Knows that the young man who composedly peril'd his life and lost it has done exceedingly well for himself without doubt,
  226. p. 291, line 22That he who never peril'd his life, but retains it to old age in riches and ease, has probably achiev'd nothing for himself worth mentioning,
  227. p. 291, line 26Who in his spirit in any emergency whatever neither hurries nor avoids death.
  228. p. 293, line 12(Convict forgetting prison, keeper his loaded pistol,)
  229. p. 294, line 1Blue-bird and darting swallow, nor forget the high-hole flashing his golden wings,
  230. p. 294, line 8Or flitting among the trees of the apple-orchard, building the nest of his mate,
  231. p. 295, line 6After his day's work done, cleanly, sweet-air'd, the gaslight burning,
  232. p. 296, line 8But to the high seas launch, my thought, his memory.
  233. p. 301, line 27A knife-grinder works at his wheel sharpening a great knife,
  234. p. 303, line 17Who holds duly his or her triune proportion of realism, spiritualism, and of the æsthetic or intellectual,
  235. p. 303, line 19Who, out of the theory of the earth and of his or her body understands by subtle analogies all other theories,
  236. p. 307, line 14Yet see you! how soon his rage subsides—how soon this tamer tames him;
  237. p. 307, line 18Some are buff-color'd, some mottled, one has a white line running along his back, some are brindled,
  238. p. 307, line 25I confess I envy only his fascination—my silent, illiterate friend,
  239. p. 307, line 26Whom a hundred oxen love there in his life on farms,
  240. p. 308, line 14(As George Fox rais'd his warning cry, "Is it this pile of brick and mortar, these dead floors, windows, rails, you call the church?
  241. p. 312, line 2(The Almighty leader now for once has signal'd with his wand.)
  242. p. 312, line 30Amid the scent of night-roses, radiant, holding his bride by the hand,
  243. p. 314, line 16Obeisant sends his love.
  244. p. 318, line 30The true son of God shall come singing his songs.
  245. p. 319, line 25The tale of Alexander on his warlike marches suddenly dying,
  246. p. 320, line 18Behold him sail from Palos leading his little fleet,
  247. p. 320, line 19His voyage behold, his return, his great fame,
  248. p. 320, line 20His misfortunes, calumniators, behold him a prisoner, chain'd,
  249. p. 320, line 21Behold his dejection, poverty, death.
  250. p. 320, line 33Of man, the voyage of his mind's return,
  251. p. 322, line 15The Younger melts in fondness in his arms.
  252. p. 325, line 22The married couple sleep calmly in their bed, he with his palm on the hip of the wife, and she with her palm on the hip of the husband,
  253. p. 327, line 8Darkness, you are gentler than my lover, his flesh was sweaty and panting,
  254. p. 327, line 24Whoever is not in his coffin and the dark grave let him know he has enough.)
  255. p. 328, line 2His brown hair lies close and even to his head, he strikes out with courageous arms, he urges himself with his legs,
  256. p. 328, line 3I see his white body, I see his undaunted eyes,
  257. p. 328, line 6Will you kill the courageous giant? will you kill him in the prime of his middle age?
  258. p. 328, line 8He is baffled, bang'd, bruis'd, he holds out while his strength holds out,
  259. p. 328, line 9The slapping eddies are spotted with his blood, they bear him away, they roll him, swing him, turn him,
  260. p. 328, line 10His beautiful body is borne in the circling eddies, it is continually bruis'd on rocks,
  261. p. 329, line 1His face is cold and damp, he cannot repress the weeping drops,
  262. p. 329, line 2He lifts the glass perpetually to his eyes, the color is blanch'd from his cheeks,
  263. p. 329, line 7The chief encircles their necks with his arm and kisses them on the cheek,
  264. p. 330, line 5Autumn and winter are in the dreams, the farmer goes with his thrift,
  265. p. 330, line 10The poor Irishman lives in the simple house of his childhood with the well-known neighbors and faces,
  266. p. 330, line 14The Swiss foots it toward his hills, the Prussian goes his way, the Hungarian his way, and the Pole his way,
  267. p. 331, line 22The bare arm of the girl crosses the bare breast of her lover, they press close without lust, his lips press her neck,
  268. p. 331, line 23The father holds his grown or ungrown son in his arms with measureless love, and the son holds the father in his arms with measureless love,
  269. p. 334, line 9Each after his kind.
  270. p. 334, line 22Died, aged forty-one years—and that was his funeral.
  271. p. 335, line 18The earth is not an echo, man and his life and all the things of his life are well-consider'd.
  272. p. 342, line 1I NEED no assurances, I am a man who is pre-occupied of his own soul;
  273. p. 352, line 12Though answering not in words, the skies, trees, hear his voice—and thou O sun,
  274. p. 353, line 12A wild hawk, his wings clipp'd by the clipper,
  275. p. 354, line 7This face owes to the sexton his dismalest fee,
  276. p. 360, line 10The piney odor and the gloom, the awful natural stillness, (here in these dense swamps the freebooter carries his gun, and the fugitive has his conceal'd hut;)
  277. p. 366, line 25The fall of Custer and all his officers and men.
  278. p. 370, line 23Never was average man, his soul, more energetic, more like a God,
  279. p. 371, line 2His daring foot is on land and sea everywhere, he colonizes the Pacific, the archipelagoes,
  280. p. 376, line 25Devises houses and lands to his children, bequeaths stocks, goods, funds for a school or hospital,
  281. p. 389, line 10Homer with all his wars and warriors—Hector, Achilles, Ajax,
  282. p. 393, line 16Or frozen North, or sultry South—the African's—the Arab's in his tent,
  283. p. 395, line 3(Had been a sailor all his life—was nearly 90—lived with his married grandchild, Jenny;
  284. p. 395, line 5The last of afternoons, the evening hours, for many a year his regular custom,
  285. p. 395, line 6In his great arm chair by the window seated,
  286. p. 400, line 9Sharping their sense, their ears, towards his murmuring, half-caught words:
  287. p. 404, line 10As a friend from friends his final withdrawal prolonging,
  288. p. 404, line 12(So hard for his hand to release those hands—no more will they meet,
  289. p. 408, line 6[…] primal buoyant centre-pulses down there deep somewhere within his gray-blurr'd old shell... .... . .... (Reader, you must allow a little fun […]
  290. p. 413, line 11The scout call'd up and forward—the general mounted and his aids around him—the new-brought word—the instantaneous order issued;
  291. p. 417, line 1WHEN his hour for death had come,
  292. p. 417, line 3Drew on his war-dress, shirt, leggings, and girdled the belt around his waist,
  293. p. 417, line 4Call'd for vermilion paint (his looking-glass was held before him,)
  294. p. 417, line 5Painted half his face and neck, his wrists, and back-hands.
  295. p. 417, line 6Put the scalp-knife carefully in his belt—then lying down, resting a moment,
  296. p. 417, line 7Rose again, half sitting, smiled, gave in silence his extended hand to each and all,
  297. p. 417, line 9Fix'd his look on wife and little children—the last:
  298. p. 417, line 10(And here a line in memory of his name and death.)
  299. p. 417, line 11A VOICE from Death, solemn and strange, in all his sweep and power,
  300. p. 418, line 1The household wreck'd, the husband and the wife, the engulf'd forger in his forge,
  301. p. 418, line 27FOR his o'erarching and last lesson the greybeard sufi,
  302. p. 427, line 34[…] one chanting or talking, towards himself and towards his fellow-humanity. It is certainly time for America, above all, to […]
  303. p. 432, line 21[…] I enter'd upon them. Dr. Bucke has, in his volume, already fully and fairly described the preparation of my […]
  304. p. 434, line 22[…] with my scheme. The reader will always have his or her part to do, just as much as I […]
  305. p. 434, line 31[…] Nature—the mood out of which he contemplates his subjects. What kind of temper and what amount of faith […]
  306. p. 434, line 34[…] equipment, and special raciness of the singer—what his tinge of coloring? The last value of artistic expressers, past […]
  307. p. 435, line 28[…] That primal and interior something in man, in his soul's abysms, coloring all, and, by exceptional fruitions, giving the […]
  308. p. 437, line 43[…] youth. Rubens, the Flemish painter, in one of his wanderings through the galleries of old convents, came across a […]
  309. p. 438, line 1[…] good while, and listening to the criticisms of his suite of students, he said to the latter, in answer […]