As I Sit Writing Here

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from 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.

 

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