Walt Whitman (Уолт Уитмен)

Leaves of Grass. 35. Good-Bye My Fancy. 10. To the Pending Year

Have I no weapon-word for thee—some message brief and fierce?
(Have I fought out and done indeed the battle?) Is there no shot left,
For all thy affectations, lisps, scorns, manifold silliness?
Nor for myself—my own rebellious self in thee?

Down, down, proud gorge!—though choking thee;
Thy bearded throat and high-borne forehead to the gutter;
Crouch low thy neck to eleemosynary gifts.

1. Leaves of Grass. 20. By the Roadside. 28. Offerings
2. Leaves of Grass. 32. From Noon to Starry Night. 19. What Best I See in Thee
3. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 10. Queries to My Seventieth Year
4. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 31. Yonnondio
5. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 43. The Dying Veteran

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