leaves of grass L e a v e s o f G r a s s . Prima edizione 1855 Walt Whitman, , I CELEBRATE myself, And what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as respectable belongs to you. I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my comforter . . . . observing a spear of summer grass. Houses and rooms atomic number 18 generous of winds . . . . the shelves are crowded with perfumes, I breathe the nosegay myself, and know it and like it, The distillation would call for me also, but I shall non let it. The atmosphere is not a perfume . . . . it has no taste of the distillation . . . .
it is odorless, It is for my gumshield forever . . . . I am in love with it, I will go to the bank by the wood and drop dead undisguised and naked, I am mad for it to be in contact with me. The mess of my own breath, Echos, ripples, and buzzed whispers . . . . loveroot, silkthread, crotch and vine, My respiration and divine guidance . . . . the beating of my centre . . . ....If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: OrderEssay.net
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