Whitman, as Printed

‹ Leaves of Grass, 1891–92

The lines with “its”

its 261 Back to I

  1. p. 9, line 14As to me directing like flame its eyes,
  2. p. 11, line 23With all its angry and vehement play of causes,
  3. p. 11, line 26Merged in its spirit I and mine, as the contest hinged on thee,
  4. p. 11, line 27As a wheel on its axis turns, this book unwitting to itself,
  5. p. 12, line 28In its eidólon.
  6. p. 14, line 15(As some perennial tree out of its roots, the present on the past,)
  7. p. 15, line 10Once fully enslaved, no nation, state, city of this earth, ever afterward resumes its liberty.
  8. p. 16, line 20On its breast a ship starting, spreading all sails, carrying even her moonsails,
  9. p. 19, line 25One generation playing its part and passing on,
  10. p. 19, line 26Another generation playing its part and passing on in its turn,
  11. p. 21, line 29For who but I should understand love with all its sorrow and joy?
  12. p. 22, line 11Each is not for its own sake,
  13. p. 23, line 9The following chants each for its kind I sing.
  14. p. 31, line 9Till that becomes unseen and receives proof in its turn.
  15. p. 34, line 18Every kind for itself and its own, for me mine male and female,
  16. p. 35, line 1The little one sleeps in its cradle,
  17. p. 35, line 6I witness the corpse with its dabbled hair, I note where the pistol has fallen.
  18. p. 35, line 25I felt its soft jolts, one leg reclined on the other,
  19. p. 38, line 1The negro holds firmly the reins of his four horses, the block swags underneath on its tied-over chain,
  20. p. 38, line 24Find its purpose and place up there toward the wintry sky.
  21. p. 39, line 17The carpenter dresses his plank, the tongue of his foreplane whistles its wild ascending lisp,
  22. p. 42, line 27The palpable is in its place and the impalpable is in its place.)
  23. p. 52, line 6If nothing lay more develop'd the quahaug in its callous shell were enough.
  24. p. 52, line 17Straining the udder of my heart for its withheld drip,
  25. p. 53, line 2You villain touch! what are you doing? my breath is tight in its throat,
  26. p. 54, line 12In vain the mastodon retreats beneath its own powder'd bones,
  27. p. 56, line 2Over the growing sugar, over the yellow-flower'd cotton plant, over the rice in its low moist field,
  28. p. 56, line 3Over the sharp-peak'd farm house, with its scallop'd scum and slender shoots from the gutters,
  29. p. 56, line 14Where trip-hammers crash, where the press is whirling its cylinders,
  30. p. 56, line 15Wherever the human heart beats with terrible throes under its ribs,
  31. p. 56, line 19Where the steam-ship trails hind-ways its long pennant of smoke,
  32. p. 58, line 16Carrying the crescent child that carries its own full mother in its belly,
  33. p. 61, line 2The ambulanza slowly passing trailing its red drip,
  34. p. 70, line 16But I know it will in its turn prove sufficient, and cannot fail.
  35. p. 71, line 12That which fills its period and place is equal to any.
  36. p. 76, line 11And to glance with an eye or show a bean in its pod confounds the learning of all times,
  37. p. 83, line 21I am drawn by its breath as if I were no more than a helpless vapor, all falls aside but myself and it,
  38. p. 85, line 12Do you think matter has cohered together from its diffuse float, and the soil is on the surface, and water runs and vegetation sprouts,
  39. p. 87, line 19The brain in its folds inside the skull-frame,
  40. p. 90, line 13The dead leaf whirling its spiral whirl and falling still and content to the ground,
  41. p. 91, line 11It has done its work—I toss it carelessly to fall where it may.
  42. p. 94, line 13ONCE I pass'd through a populous city imprinting my brain for future use with its shows, architecture, customs, traditions,
  43. p. 105, line 24And its look, rude, unbending, lusty, made me think of myself,
  44. p. 105, line 25But I wonder'd how it could utter joyous leaves standing alone there without its friend near, for I knew I could not,
  45. p. 106, line 7Uttering joyous leaves all its life without a friend a lover near,
  46. p. 107, line 8THE prairie-grass dividing, its special odor breathing,
  47. p. 114, line 15The Japan waters, the beautiful bay of Nagasaki land-lock'd in its mountains,
  48. p. 114, line 17The clear-sunn'd Mediterranean, and from one to another of its islands,
  49. p. 122, line 9The picture alive, every part in its best light,
  50. p. 123, line 18Its effusion of strength and will overwhelms law and mocks all authority and all argument against it.)
  51. p. 123, line 22Wisdom is of the soul, is not susceptible of proof, is its own proof,
  52. p. 131, line 25The dark threw its patches down upon me also,
  53. p. 135, line 2The profound earth and its attributes and the unquiet ocean, (so tell I my morning's romanza,)
  54. p. 135, line 21Every existence has its idiom, every thing has an idiom and tongue,
  55. p. 137, line 9(Not every century nor every five centuries has contain'd such a day, for all its names.)
  56. p. 141, line 17Retreating, triumphantly twittering, the king-bird, from piercing the crow with its bill, for amusement—and I triumphantly twittering,
  57. p. 148, line 25Welcome are all earth's lands, each for its kind,
  58. p. 150, line 18The bricks one after another each laid so workmanlike in its place, and set with a knock of the trowel-handle,
  59. p. 151, line 19The sack of an old city in its time,
  60. p. 152, line 21Where thrift is in its place, and prudence is in its place,
  61. p. 152, line 25Where fierce men and women pour forth as the sea to the whistle of death pours its sweeping and unript waves,
  62. p. 156, line 24The shape of the gambling-board with its devilish winnings and losings,
  63. p. 159, line 12Palmerin, ogre, departed, vanish'd the turrets that Usk from its waters reflected,
  64. p. 159, line 15Embroider'd, dazzling, foreign world, with all its gorgeous legends, myths,
  65. p. 159, line 16Its kings and castles proud, its priests and warlike lords and courtly dames,
  66. p. 159, line 17Pass'd to its charnel vault, coffin'd with crown and armor on,
  67. p. 160, line 21Its manifold ensemble.
  68. p. 161, line 10You shall mark in amazement the Hoe press whirling its cylinders, shedding the printed leaves steady and fast,
  69. p. 162, line 6And in its stead speed industry's campaigns,
  70. p. 163, line 2The house-comforts, the house itself and all its belongings,
  71. p. 163, line 3Food and its preservation, chemistry applied to it,
  72. p. 163, line 5And helps its present life to health and happiness, and shapes its soul,
  73. p. 163, line 29And on its limitless, heaving breast, the ships;
  74. p. 166, line 10I heard the mighty tree its death-chant chanting.
  75. p. 166, line 15Murmuring out of its myriad leaves,
  76. p. 166, line 16Down from its lofty top rising two hundred feet high,
  77. p. 166, line 17Out of its stalwart trunk and limbs, out of its foot-thick bark,
  78. p. 179, line 22My tongue is ineffectual on its pivots,
  79. p. 179, line 23My breath will not be obedient to its organs,
  80. p. 181, line 6Enclosed and safe within its central heart,
  81. p. 182, line 15For the scheme's culmination, its thought and its reality,
  82. p. 187, line 3But I paint myriads of heads, but paint no head without its nimbus of gold-color'd light,
  83. p. 188, line 6Through angers, losses, ambition, ignorance, ennui, what you are picks its way.
  84. p. 191, line 13(A moment, a moment long it sail'd its balls of unearthly light over our heads,
  85. p. 192, line 16The very sun swings itself and its system of planets around us,
  86. p. 192, line 17Its sun, and its again, all swing around us.
  87. p. 195, line 21Commerce opening, the sleep of ages having done its work, races reborn, refresh'd,
  88. p. 198, line 25Close on its wave soothes the wave behind,
  89. p. 205, line 20Ringing, ringing, to warn the ship from its wreck-place.
  90. p. 207, line 24Of ships sailing the seas, each with its special flag or ship-signal,
  91. p. 211, line 9You have got your revenge, old buster—the crown is come to its own, and more than its own.
  92. p. 211, line 12SUDDENLY out of its stale and drowsy lair, the lair of slaves,
  93. p. 211, line 14Its feet upon the ashes and the rags, its hands tight to the throats of kings.
  94. p. 211, line 21For court thieving in its manifold mean forms, worming from his simplicity the poor man's wages,
  95. p. 212, line 9Out of its robes only this, the red robes lifted by the arm,
  96. p. 212, line 20Not a grave of the murder'd for freedom but grows seed for freedom, in its turn to bear seed,
  97. p. 213, line 20O Death, (for Life has served its turn,)
  98. p. 214, line 12Because all I see and know I believe to have its main purport in what will yet be supplied.
  99. p. 217, line 10I SEE the sleeping babe nestling the breast of its mother,
  100. p. 219, line 24Till with ominous hum our hive at daybreak pour'd out its myriads.
  101. p. 221, line 3Mannahatta a-march—and it's O to sing it well!
  102. p. 221, line 4It's O for a manly life in the camp.
  103. p. 224, line 12On floats the sea in distant blue careering through its channels,
  104. p. 224, line 19Not the spirit that ever lashes its own body to terror and death,
  105. p. 224, line 26O now it seems to me it is talking to its children,
  106. p. 236, line 1WITH its cloud of skirmishers in advance,
  107. p. 237, line 15Amid all teeming and wealthy Ohio with all its cities and farms,
  108. p. 250, line 21Beautiful that war and all its deeds of carnage must in time be utterly lost,
  109. p. 252, line 22Out of its countless beleaguering toils, after thwarting them all,
  110. p. 256, line 3A sprig with its flower I break.
  111. p. 256, line 15Passing the yellow-spear'd wheat, every grain from its shroud in the dark-brown fields uprisen,
  112. p. 257, line 22As my soul in its trouble dissatisfied sank, as where you sad orb,
  113. p. 259, line 14In the close of the day with its light and the fields of spring, and the farmers preparing their crops,
  114. p. 259, line 15In the large unconscious scenery of my land with its lakes and forests,
  115. p. 259, line 20And the infinite separate houses, how they all went on, each with its meals and minutia of daily usages,
  116. p. 259, line 24And I knew death, its thought, and the sacred knowledge of death.
  117. p. 263, line 9The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
  118. p. 265, line 22America brings builders, and brings its own styles.
  119. p. 265, line 25America, curious toward foreign characters, stands by its own at all hazards,
  120. p. 266, line 4Perceives that it waits a little while in the door, that it was fittest for its days,
  121. p. 266, line 5That its life has descended to the stalwart and well-shaped heir who approaches,
  122. p. 266, line 21Attracting it body and soul to himself, hanging on its neck with incomparable love,
  123. p. 266, line 22Plunging his seminal muscle into its merits and demerits,
  124. p. 266, line 23Making its cities, beginnings, events, diversities, wars, vocal in him,
  125. p. 266, line 24Making its rivers, lakes, bays, embouchure in him,
  126. p. 269, line 11Nothing out of its place is good, nothing in its place is bad,
  127. p. 269, line 12He bestows on every object or quality its fit proportion, neither more nor less,
  128. p. 271, line 2Have you studied out the land, its idioms and men?
  129. p. 271, line 3Have you learn'd the physiology, phrenology, politics, geography, pride, freedom, friendship of the land? its substratums and objects?
  130. p. 272, line 12If its poets appear it will in due time advance to meet them, there is no fear of mistake,
  131. p. 274, line 15Its power, weapons, testimony, are you and me,
  132. p. 274, line 16Its crimes, lies, thefts, defections, are you and me,
  133. p. 274, line 17Its Congress is you and me, the officers, capitols, armies, ships, are you and me,
  134. p. 274, line 18Its endless gestations of new States are you and me,
  135. p. 282, line 5Not a maize-stalk dangle as now its silken tassels in peace.
  136. p. 282, line 8Harvest the maize of Missouri, Kentucky, Tennessee, each ear in its light-green sheath,
  137. p. 282, line 9Gather the hay to its myriad mows in the odorous tranquil barns,
  138. p. 286, line 11The resurrection of the wheat appears with pale visage out of its graves,
  139. p. 286, line 16Out of its little hill faithfully rise the potato's dark green leaves,
  140. p. 286, line 17Out of its hill rises the yellow maize-stalk, the lilacs bloom in the dooryards,
  141. p. 286, line 22That it is safe to allow it to lick my naked body all over with its tongues,
  142. p. 287, line 3It turns harmless and stainless on its axis, with such endless successions of diseas'd corpses,
  143. p. 287, line 5It renews with such unwitting looks its prodigal, annual, sumptuous crops,
  144. p. 287, line 14Waiting patiently, waiting its time.
  145. p. 291, line 6Did you guess any thing lived only its moment?
  146. p. 291, line 13The soul has that measureless pride which revolts from every lesson but its own.
  147. p. 291, line 15That answers the pride which refuses every lesson but its own.
  148. p. 291, line 19Matches every thought or act by its correlative,
  149. p. 293, line 28Bees, butterflies, the sparrow with its simple notes,
  150. p. 294, line 9The melted snow of March, the willow sending forth its yellow-green sprouts,
  151. p. 301, line 16The whole referring, yet each distinct and in its place.
  152. p. 302, line 3The scene and all its belongings, how they seize and affect me,
  153. p. 303, line 18Who having consider'd the body finds all its organs and parts good,
  154. p. 304, line 1Who believes not only in our globe with its sun and moon, but in other globes with their suns and moons,
  155. p. 304, line 20It is no small matter, this round and delicious globe moving so exactly in its orbit for ever and ever, without one jolt or the untruth of a single second,
  156. p. 306, line 5And 'mid its teeming madden'd half-drown'd crowds,
  157. p. 306, line 8Orb not of France alone, pale symbol of my soul, its dearest hopes,
  158. p. 306, line 29Forth from its spasms of fury and its poisons,
  159. p. 306, line 31Onward beneath the sun following its course,
  160. p. 308, line 24This common marvel I beheld—the parent thrush I watch'd feeding its young,
  161. p. 309, line 23(As some old root or soil of earth its last-born flower or fruit,)
  162. p. 311, line 21The strong base stands, and its pulsations intermits not,
  163. p. 314, line 30And questioning all those reminiscences, the tempest in its fury,
  164. p. 315, line 23The New by its mighty railroad spann'd,
  165. p. 317, line 10I scan the noble Elk mountain and wind around its base,
  166. p. 320, line 6The world of 1492, with its awaken'd enterprise,
  167. p. 321, line 33At Nature and its wonders, Time and Space and Death,
  168. p. 331, line 8It comes from its embower'd garden and looks pleasantly on itself and encloses the world,
  169. p. 331, line 12The universe is duly in order, every thing is in its place,
  170. p. 331, line 13What has arrived is in its place and what waits shall be in its place,
  171. p. 348, line 8Thou that lay folded like an unborn babe within its folds so long,
  172. p. 348, line 11Its poems, churches, arts, unwitting to themselves, destined with reference to thee;
  173. p. 350, line 25(Wert capable of war, its tug and trials? be capable of peace, its trials,
  174. p. 351, line 2The livid cancer spread its hideous claws, clinging upon thy breasts, seeking to strike thee deep within,
  175. p. 351, line 10The soul, its destinies.
  176. p. 351, line 11The soul, its destinies, the real real,
  177. p. 351, line 13In thee America, the soul, its destinies,
  178. p. 351, line 22The boats separate and row off, each on its rounding course to the beach, enclosing the mossbonkers,
  179. p. 352, line 18O'er all the globe that turns its face to thee shining in space,
  180. p. 353, line 11The face withdrawn of its good and bad, a castrated face,
  181. p. 353, line 19Some milk-nosed maggot blessing what lets it wrig to its hole.
  182. p. 353, line 23Its sleepy and wabbling icebergs crunch as they go.
  183. p. 354, line 1This face is an epilepsy, its wordless tongue gives out the unearthly cry,
  184. p. 354, line 2Its veins down the neck distend, its eyes roll till they show nothing but their whites,
  185. p. 354, line 3Its teeth grit, the palms of the hands are cut by the turn'd-in nails,
  186. p. 358, line 13Sing to my soul, renew its languishing faith and hope,
  187. p. 358, line 15Give me for once its prophecy and joy.
  188. p. 359, line 13By day thy warning ringing bell to sound its notes,
  189. p. 360, line 14A Kentucky corn-field, the tall, graceful, long-leav'd corn, slender, flapping, bright green, with tassels, with beautiful ears each well-sheath'd in its husk;
  190. p. 362, line 4And that nothing fails its perfect return, and that what are called lies are perfect returns,
  191. p. 362, line 24It and its radiations constantly glide.
  192. p. 366, line 15Give me of you O spring, before I close, to put between its pages!
  193. p. 368, line 2All its ships and shores I see interwoven with your threads greedy banner;
  194. p. 368, line 26To fuse within themselves its rules precise and delicatesse?
  195. p. 373, line 14And how all people, sights, combinations, the democratic masses too, serve—and how every fact, and war itself, with all its horrors, serves,
  196. p. 377, line 1With nothing to show to devise from its idle years,
  197. p. 379, line 9To the sense of Death, and accepting exulting in Death in its turn the same as life,
  198. p. 381, line 9I announce an end that shall lightly and joyfully meet its translation.
  199. p. 387, line 14Forth from its sunny nook of shelter'd grass—innocent, golden, calm as the dawn,
  200. p. 387, line 15The spring's first dandelion shows its trustful face.
  201. p. 388, line 3The past entire, with all its heroes, histories, arts, experiments,
  202. p. 388, line 4Its store of songs, inventions, voyages, teachers, books,
  203. p. 389, line 14Would you the undulation of one wave, its trick to me transfer,
  204. p. 389, line 16And leave its odor there.
  205. p. 389, line 23Holding the universe with all its parts as one—as sailing in a ship?
  206. p. 391, line 14Nor you, Yosemite—nor Yellowstone, with all its spasmic geyser-loops ascending to the skies, appearing and disappearing,
  207. p. 393, line 8As some old tree, or rock or cliff, thrill'd with its soul,
  208. p. 393, line 10In hunting-shirt of film, arm'd with the rifle, a half-ironical smile curving its phantom lips,
  209. p. 393, line 13Far from its base and shaft expanding—the round zones circling, comprehending,
  210. p. 394, line 4Old age land-lock'd within its winter bay—(cold, cold, O cold!)
  211. p. 394, line 26Old age, and what it brings from all its past experiences.
  212. p. 399, line 9(For song, issuing from its birth-place, after fulfilment, wandering,
  213. p. 401, line 11Dress'd in its russet suit of good Scotch cloth:
  214. p. 403, line 16Each song of mine—each utterance in the past—having its long, long history,
  215. p. 409, line 17Is when its proper place arrives—and for its meaning,
  216. p. 409, line 31[…] samples of the best, which involve vitality at its full, and balance, and perfect control and scope. But they […]
  217. p. 411, line 2Let it remain back there on its nail suspended,
  218. p. 413, line 35[…] the last life-throbs of secession, and beaming on its dying gasps, Sheridan's will be bright. One consideration rising out […]
  219. p. 415, line 17(Let the future care for itself, where it reveals its troubles, impedimentas,
  220. p. 416, line 17Out spake pleased Nature (the round impassive globe, with all its shows of day and night,) saying, He is mine;
  221. p. 418, line 13Its hot-spurr'd hearts and hands humanity to human aid moves on;
  222. p. 418, line 30Under an ancient chestnut-tree wide spreading its branches,
  223. p. 419, line 10To return to its divine source and origin, however distant,
  224. p. 420, line 19Haughty this song, its words and scope,
  225. p. 425, line 26[…] of Grass," now finish'd to the end of its opportunities and powers, as my definitive carte visite to the […]
  226. p. 426, line 15[…] be said, I consider "Leaves of Grass" and its theory experimental—as, in the deepest sense, I consider our […]
  227. p. 426, line 17[…] consider our American republic itself to be, with its theory. (I think I have at least enough philosophy not […]
  228. p. 426, line 20[…] a sortie—whether to prove triumphant, and conquer its field of aim and escape and construction, nothing less than […]
  229. p. 426, line 43[…] and tallying, the momentous spirit and facts of its immediate days, and of current America—and to exploit that […]
  230. p. 427, line 15[…] their challenge to poetry to put them in its statements in contradistinction to the songs and myths of the […]
  231. p. 427, line 26[…] rhyme. But the broadest average of humanity and its identities in the now ripening Nineteenth Century, and especially in […]
  232. p. 427, line 40[…] to the special tendency to science and to its all-devouring force, poetry would cease to be read in fifty […]
  233. p. 428, line 9[…] war-produced ones. The Nineteenth Century, now well towards its close (and ripening into fruit the seeds of the two […]
  234. p. 428, line 22[…] we have cull'd enough of that period in its own spirit to worthily waft a few live breaths of […]
  235. p. 428, line 33[…] literature does not shine by any luminosity of its own; nor do its poems. They grow of circumstances, and are evolutionary. The actual […]
  236. p. 429, line 33[…] the moods of humanity at the time, and its gloomy or hopeful prospects, behind all poets and each poet […]
  237. p. 432, line 4[…] Grass." My verdict and conclusions as illustrated in its pages are arrived at through the temper and inculcation of […]
  238. p. 432, line 25[…] everything was fertilized, rooted, and ready to start its own way for good or bad. Not till after all […]
  239. p. 435, line 21[…] so retarded and jeopardized by powerful personalities, that its first instincts are fain to clip, conform, bring in stragglers […]
  240. p. 436, line 26[…] itself. The vitality of it is altogether in its relations, bearings, significance—like the clef of a symphony. At […]
  241. p. 437, line 32[…] the republican genius, and offer no foundation for its fitting verse. Establish'd poems, I know, have the very great […]
  242. p. 437, line 37[…] art can be regulated from without; it carries its own counterpoise, and does not receive it from elsewhere—lives […]
  243. p. 437, line 38[…] does not receive it from elsewhere—lives on its own blood "—a solace to my frequent bruises and sulky […]