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Classic writing, modern delivery

Walt Whitman · Leaves of Grass

Poem 215 of 382 · Autumn Rivulets

What Am I After All

— ✻ —

What am I after all but a child, pleas’d with the sound of my own
name? repeating it over and over;
I stand apart to hear--it never tires me.

To you your name also;
Did you think there was nothing but two or three pronunciations in
the sound of your name?

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