As I Sit Writing Here
From ImmortalPoetry
Jump to navigationJump to searchfrom Leaves of Grass: BOOK XXXIV. SANDS AT SEVENTY - by Walt Whitman.
As I sit writing here, sick and grown old,
Not my least burden is that dulness of the years, querilities,
Ungracious glooms, aches, lethargy, constipation, whimpering ennui,
May filter in my dally songs.
| from Leaves of Grass: BOOK XXXIV. SANDS AT SEVENTY by Walt Whitman | |
| A Font of Type | My Canary Bird 
|
Enable comment auto-refresher