Walt Whitman

Book IV. Children of Adam: I Heard You, Solemn-Sweet Pipes of the Organ

I heard you solemn-sweet pipes of the organ as last Sunday morn I
pass’d the church,
Winds of autumn, as I walk’d the woods at dusk I heard your long–
stretch’d sighs up above so mournful,
I heard the perfect Italian tenor singing at the opera, I heard the
soprano in the midst of the quartet singing;
Heart of my love! you too I heard murmuring low through one of the
wrists around my head,
Heard the pulse of you when all was still ringing little bells last night
under my ear.
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