Verse > Walt Whitman > Leaves of Grass
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Walt Whitman (1819–1892).  Leaves of Grass.  1900.

252. By Broad Potomac’s Shore


1

BY broad Potomac’s shore—again, old tongue!
 
(Still uttering—still ejaculating—canst never cease this babble?) 
Again, old heart so gay—again to you, your sense, the full flush spring returning; 
Again the freshness and the odors—again Virginia’s summer sky, pellucid blue and silver, 
Again the forenoon purple of the hills,         5
Again the deathless grass, so noiseless, soft and green, 
Again the blood-red roses blooming. 
  
2

Perfume this book of mine, O blood-red roses!
 
Lave subtly with your waters every line, Potomac! 
Give me of you, O spring, before I close, to put between its pages!  10
O forenoon purple of the hills, before I close, of you! 
O smiling earth—O summer sun, give me of you! 
O deathless grass, of you! 


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