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208
Leaves of Grass.

17. The gentleman of perfect blood acknowledges his perfect
blood,
The insulter, the prostitute, the angry person, the
beggar, see themselves in the ways of him—he
strangely transmutes them,
They are not vile any more—they hardly know themselves,
they are so grown.

18. Do you think it would be good to be the writer of
melodious verses?
Well, it would be good to be the writer of melodious
verses;
But what are verses beyond the flowing character you
could have? or beyond beautiful manners and
behavior?
Or beyond one manly or affectionate deed of an apprentice-boy?
or old woman? or man that has
been in prison, or is likely to be in prison?





4.



1. Something startles me where I thought I was safest,
I withdraw from the still woods I loved,
I will not go now on the pastures to walk,
I will not strip the clothes from my body to meet my
lover the sea,
I will not touch my flesh to the earth, as to other
flesh, to renew, me.