Topic: Humanity

“O Christ! My fit is mastering me!”

O Christ! My fit is mastering me! What the rebel said gaily adjusting his throat to the rope-noose, What the savage at the stump, his eye-sockets empty, his mouth spirting whoops and defiance, What stills the traveler come to the vault at Mount Vernon, What sobers the Brooklyn boy...

By Walt Whitman
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16 January