SOMETIMES with one I love, I fill myself with rage, for fear I effuse
unreturn'd love;
But now I think there is no unreturn'd love--the pay is certain, one
way or another;
(I loved a certain person ardently, and my love was not return'd;
Yet out of that, I have written these songs.)
More verses by Walt Whitman
- Ashes Of Soldiers
- I Sit And Look Out
- As At Thy Portals Also Death
- Pioneers! O Pioneers!
- City Of Ships