This is a table of type quadgram and their frequencies. Use it to search & browse the list to learn more about your study carrel.
quadgram | frequency |
---|---|
in the midst of | 44 |
of the united states | 31 |
in the united states | 28 |
the shape of the | 24 |
it seems to me | 24 |
in one of the | 21 |
of leaves of grass | 21 |
in the open air | 19 |
a good deal of | 19 |
i have not heard | 18 |
i want to see | 18 |
i should like to | 16 |
i am writing this | 16 |
of the new world | 15 |
i have written to | 15 |
of men and women | 15 |
i am not sure | 15 |
the face of the | 14 |
i have no doubt | 14 |
got a letter from | 13 |
the banks of the | 13 |
in new york city | 13 |
the sound of the | 13 |
a man or woman | 13 |
of the secession war | 12 |
the mother of all | 12 |
am not sure but | 12 |
at the same time | 12 |
want to see you | 12 |
the rest of the | 12 |
for the first time | 12 |
the midst of the | 12 |
at the end of | 11 |
a good part of | 11 |
just as much as | 11 |
am writing this in | 11 |
up and down the | 11 |
the song of the | 11 |
the history of the | 11 |
the close of the | 11 |
i got a letter | 11 |
the other side of | 11 |
at the close of | 10 |
have not heard anything | 10 |
the middle of the | 10 |
out of the night | 10 |
i have been in | 10 |
and mat and all | 10 |
the whole of the | 10 |
the same as the | 10 |
just the same as | 10 |
the edge of the | 10 |
the latter part of | 10 |
i hope you are | 10 |
from time to time | 10 |
the breast of the | 10 |
the worst of it | 10 |
i do not know | 10 |
it is not the | 10 |
good part of the | 10 |
in the course of | 10 |
welcome are lands of | 10 |
i see where the | 9 |
i have been with | 9 |
the banner at daybreak | 9 |
army of the potomac | 9 |
come up from the | 9 |
over and over again | 9 |
jeff and mat and | 9 |
some of the men | 9 |
in new york and | 9 |
of two or three | 9 |
in the new world | 9 |
hope you are well | 9 |
spirit whose work is | 9 |
the shores of the | 9 |
it must have been | 9 |
as much as the | 9 |
the place of the | 9 |
the idea of the | 9 |
a sight in camp | 9 |
the wounded and sick | 9 |
whose work is done | 9 |
i would like to | 9 |
i send you my | 9 |
of him i love | 9 |
of war and peace | 8 |
the head of the | 8 |
the life of the | 8 |
i hope you will | 8 |
nor the place of | 8 |
a great deal of | 8 |
have you heard anything | 8 |
the leaves of grass | 8 |
it is certain that | 8 |
the day and night | 8 |
high in the air | 8 |
of all dead soldiers | 8 |
well and in good | 8 |
is one of the | 8 |
one of the most | 8 |
it is to be | 8 |
i will make the | 8 |
the course of the | 8 |
i am going to | 8 |
the soul of the | 8 |
are not to be | 8 |
from your fathomless deeps | 8 |
i suppose you got | 8 |
in the habit of | 8 |
by the side of | 8 |
and in good spirits | 8 |
part of the day | 8 |
on the banks of | 8 |
where the city of | 8 |
of the old world | 8 |
i have not seen | 8 |
the city of the | 8 |
i wish i could | 8 |
the army of the | 8 |
bullet could never kill | 7 |
for a long time | 7 |
and the road unknown | 7 |
rise o days from | 7 |
days from your fathomless | 7 |
me the splendid silent | 7 |
the splendid silent sun | 7 |
i sit by the | 7 |
in camp in the | 7 |
in the ranks hard | 7 |
i hope it will | 7 |
in the old world | 7 |
hundreds and thousands of | 7 |
but it is not | 7 |
millions of square miles | 7 |
where i was born | 7 |
camp in the daybreak | 7 |
what you really are | 7 |
the bullet could never | 7 |
as one by one | 7 |
in and around washington | 7 |
i thought i would | 7 |
at the foot of | 7 |
o days from your | 7 |
it is the most | 7 |
as far as i | 7 |
and come to the | 7 |
i want to hear | 7 |
a large proportion of | 7 |
give me the splendid | 7 |
of the earth and | 7 |
once in a while | 7 |
up from the fields | 7 |
an hour or two | 7 |
are you and me | 7 |
as i write this | 7 |
up out of the | 7 |
new york and brooklyn | 7 |
two or three days | 7 |
latter part of the | 7 |
i swear to you | 7 |
quite a number of | 7 |
sight in camp in | 7 |
you are well and | 7 |
send you my love | 7 |
a march in the | 7 |
seems to have been | 7 |
should like to see | 7 |
one of the best | 7 |
most of the time | 7 |
march in the ranks | 7 |
much of the time | 7 |
i do not see | 7 |
of a man or | 6 |
for men and women | 6 |
a part of the | 6 |
over the breast of | 6 |
during the secession war | 6 |
the spread of the | 6 |
you got my letter | 6 |
as i sit here | 6 |
the banner and pennant | 6 |
in the house of | 6 |
the whole of this | 6 |
it is a great | 6 |
solemn as one by | 6 |
the centre of the | 6 |
the wings of the | 6 |
should like to hear | 6 |
it seems as if | 6 |
an hour or so | 6 |
needs to be better | 6 |
come home for a | 6 |
at the head of | 6 |
use the wings of | 6 |
has been and is | 6 |
the last three days | 6 |
i do not say | 6 |
in the daybreak gray | 6 |
with the banner and | 6 |
two or three times | 6 |
daybreak gray and dim | 6 |
toward the latter part | 6 |
but i do not | 6 |
one poor little child | 6 |
the daybreak gray and | 6 |
how solemn as one | 6 |
the new england states | 6 |
have not heard from | 6 |
in the way of | 6 |
the first time in | 6 |
i went to the | 6 |
of one of the | 6 |
for he was a | 6 |
i was in the | 6 |
the end of the | 6 |
spacious and haughty states | 6 |
sailing in and out | 6 |
ships sailing in and | 6 |
have been in the | 6 |
the last three years | 6 |
and see you the | 6 |
the appearance of the | 6 |
as well as the | 6 |
of the common people | 6 |
a letter from me | 6 |
i was with him | 6 |
stars in the sky | 6 |
a couple of hours | 6 |
have written to george | 6 |
lilacs last in the | 6 |
in the middle of | 6 |
songs for a prelude | 6 |
the spirit of the | 6 |
good as the best | 6 |
the sick and wounded | 6 |
of the banner at | 6 |
the bulk of the | 6 |
fallen cold and dead | 6 |
the men and women | 6 |
for the last three | 6 |
dirge for two veterans | 6 |
will soon be better | 6 |
year that trembled and | 6 |
i shall never forget | 6 |
i am not the | 6 |
banner and pennant a | 6 |
the united states have | 6 |
o songs for a | 6 |
a couple of days | 6 |
first o songs for | 6 |
down to the present | 6 |
on the other side | 6 |
of the nineteenth century | 6 |
the thought of the | 6 |
i wish you would | 6 |
when i come home | 6 |
and jeff and mat | 6 |
the sight of the | 6 |
nor the bayonet stab | 6 |
from the fields father | 6 |
to him or her | 6 |
to the front door | 6 |
that there is no | 6 |
is not to be | 6 |
back most to him | 6 |
the valley of the | 6 |
or north or south | 6 |
he seems to have | 6 |
song of the banner | 6 |
when lilacs last in | 6 |
are you getting along | 5 |
of all the rest | 5 |
it is the same | 5 |
the nature of the | 5 |
the loss of the | 5 |
death of abraham lincoln | 5 |
i believe i told | 5 |
strange as it may | 5 |
my way through the | 5 |
the heart of the | 5 |
the word of the | 5 |
the united states to | 5 |
the death of lincoln | 5 |
the midst of all | 5 |
and more than once | 5 |
the three or four | 5 |
it is not you | 5 |
for the last two | 5 |
the perfect equality of | 5 |
of the middle ages | 5 |
and the open air | 5 |
little or nothing to | 5 |
i do not feel | 5 |
have to do with | 5 |
lands of the earth | 5 |
the streets of manhattan | 5 |
there can be no | 5 |
the last two days | 5 |
know what it is | 5 |
you see in the | 5 |
to say nothing of | 5 |
the mind of man | 5 |
send my love to | 5 |
what have you to | 5 |
for an hour or | 5 |
a cent of money | 5 |
with the love of | 5 |
in the form of | 5 |
with reference to the | 5 |
the words of the | 5 |
i should say the | 5 |
in the name of | 5 |
of course there are | 5 |
the best of the | 5 |
of marble and iron | 5 |
the bottom of the | 5 |
large proportion of the | 5 |
the sounds of the | 5 |
one of these days | 5 |
i loved so well | 5 |
as soon as he | 5 |
i send my love | 5 |
the maker of poems | 5 |
the love of comrades | 5 |
four or five days | 5 |
as near as i | 5 |
of the greatest poet | 5 |
main part of the | 5 |
other side of the | 5 |
i am sure i | 5 |
on the shores of | 5 |
a good long letter | 5 |
if he does not | 5 |
not sure but the | 5 |
the songs of the | 5 |
do not give out | 5 |
the crowd of the | 5 |
any part of the | 5 |
there is something in | 5 |
in the presence of | 5 |
new york city and | 5 |
that part of the | 5 |
to us from the | 5 |
writing this in major | 5 |
the past and present | 5 |
by far the most | 5 |
the war is over | 5 |
hear the sound of | 5 |
the men in their | 5 |
in time and space | 5 |
the hands of the | 5 |
comes back most to | 5 |
i wrote to george | 5 |
i know you will | 5 |
the noise of the | 5 |
at any rate i | 5 |
it is not in | 5 |
you heard anything from | 5 |
one of the hospitals | 5 |
trees in the woods | 5 |
and always will be | 5 |
the body and the | 5 |
from first to last | 5 |
the blood of the | 5 |
how are you getting | 5 |
was one of the | 5 |
i am so glad | 5 |
sine qua non of | 5 |
but i am not | 5 |
believe i told you | 5 |
the character of the | 5 |
through the smoke of | 5 |
thought i would write | 5 |
as it should be | 5 |
it is in the | 5 |
i have seen a | 5 |
the old and new | 5 |
not heard from george | 5 |
and the whirr of | 5 |
what do you think | 5 |
good deal of the | 5 |
and comes back most | 5 |
close of the day | 5 |
the presence of the | 5 |
in the centre of | 5 |
and some of the | 5 |
to leaves of grass | 5 |
to go to the | 5 |
the pride of the | 5 |
and i in the | 5 |
in a dying condition | 5 |
a letter from jeff | 5 |
to see you all | 5 |
a long time before | 5 |
i will see if | 5 |
the best of it | 5 |
as good as the | 5 |
for a couple of | 5 |
of some of the | 5 |
to see you and | 5 |
seem to me to | 5 |
and two or three | 5 |
of the mother of | 5 |
all the nations of | 5 |
i suppose you know | 5 |
i hear the sound | 5 |
my son and my | 5 |
from all the states | 5 |
i know it is | 5 |
of the manly and | 5 |
i do not give | 5 |
of life and death | 5 |
are well and in | 5 |
i hear the great | 5 |
a day or two | 5 |
there is a great | 5 |
west of the mississippi | 5 |
how i want to | 5 |
the same as any | 5 |
to me to be | 5 |
i saw on the | 5 |
i do hope you | 5 |
the society of friends | 5 |
of what is called | 4 |
i have i also | 4 |
hurried and glittering tides | 4 |
the first part of | 4 |
him or her who | 4 |
that it is not | 4 |
and such as these | 4 |
the public buildings and | 4 |
be the camps to | 4 |
the smoke of the | 4 |
had his leg amputated | 4 |
year of these states | 4 |
it was in the | 4 |
the riches of the | 4 |
the power of the | 4 |
like to hear from | 4 |
soon what is over | 4 |
all the rest of | 4 |
is little or nothing | 4 |
more i dress with | 4 |
does to the rest | 4 |
while for you up | 4 |
o the bullet could | 4 |
of the past and | 4 |
all the dark night | 4 |
to do with them | 4 |
such as they are | 4 |
bye for the present | 4 |
i kept on the | 4 |
i thought i was | 4 |
on these bearded lips | 4 |
the field one night | 4 |
to one of the | 4 |
by the restless all | 4 |
than the laws of | 4 |
the opening of the | 4 |
is it for the | 4 |
huts of logs and | 4 |
o to be a | 4 |
i think i know | 4 |
here again he lies | 4 |
i hope this will | 4 |
i recall the experience | 4 |
mother with thy equal | 4 |
have been with him | 4 |
the idea of all | 4 |
the wound in the | 4 |
the surface of the | 4 |
more than all the | 4 |
and one or two | 4 |
the right and left | 4 |
asked him if he | 4 |
and more i dress | 4 |
heart gives you love | 4 |
down in the country | 4 |
i think i shall | 4 |
appearance and mirth goes | 4 |
to jeff and mat | 4 |
the mouths of the | 4 |
one of the first | 4 |
the restless all the | 4 |
we are having a | 4 |
with two or three | 4 |
every part of the | 4 |
the common people of | 4 |
thick at the butt | 4 |
to me his appealing | 4 |
i think this face | 4 |
that i have been | 4 |
do you think i | 4 |
the grave of him | 4 |
york city and brooklyn | 4 |
and present and future | 4 |
the pangs are sharp | 4 |
the smell of the | 4 |
i think about you | 4 |
and that is the | 4 |
what your children en | 4 |
while the world of | 4 |
i dress with impassive | 4 |
who are you my | 4 |
who but i should | 4 |
is a sort of | 4 |
wounded i pacify with | 4 |
not refuse this moment | 4 |
knees and steady hand | 4 |
the crop shall never | 4 |
as i have seen | 4 |
the earth and of | 4 |
or the appearance of | 4 |
the last hundred years | 4 |
loving arms about this | 4 |
recall the experience sweet | 4 |
and i do not | 4 |
i hope it is | 4 |
the days and nights | 4 |
crop shall never run | 4 |
and here again he | 4 |
the greatness of the | 4 |
i at any rate | 4 |
went down to the | 4 |
to me it is | 4 |
down at the front | 4 |
divine and brother of | 4 |
past and present and | 4 |
a good lot of | 4 |
waves wash the imprints | 4 |
the eastern and western | 4 |
vigil strange i kept | 4 |
at least as much | 4 |
is there in the | 4 |
of the young fellows | 4 |
it is always a | 4 |
i wrote to jeff | 4 |
if i am to | 4 |
hang in the way | 4 |
are complete in themselves | 4 |
of the christ himself | 4 |
that could not be | 4 |
shores of the sea | 4 |
arms about this neck | 4 |
they are to be | 4 |
i thread my way | 4 |
may i not say | 4 |
a couple of weeks | 4 |
yet i think i | 4 |
in my opinion the | 4 |
or nothing to me | 4 |
i am well and | 4 |
i sat looking at | 4 |
this moment to die | 4 |
this will find you | 4 |
to him in a | 4 |
the breath of my | 4 |
i will make a | 4 |
history of the past | 4 |
after the death of | 4 |
that would save you | 4 |
at the sight of | 4 |
and appearance and mirth | 4 |
i am in the | 4 |
states more than the | 4 |
i look on the | 4 |
as well as i | 4 |
after a long march | 4 |
had much to do | 4 |
the sun and stars | 4 |
the carnage rose prophetic | 4 |
i hang on the | 4 |
as i sat looking | 4 |
kept on the field | 4 |
i do not deny | 4 |
far into the future | 4 |
some of the women | 4 |
up there in the | 4 |
less than the laws | 4 |
edition of leaves of | 4 |
all parts of the | 4 |
he is the one | 4 |
and along the shores | 4 |
i am now going | 4 |
that it was a | 4 |
from the bottom of | 4 |
two days and nights | 4 |
thousand millions of dollars | 4 |
there in the open | 4 |
two or three weeks | 4 |
badly wounded in the | 4 |
face of the christ | 4 |
with hinged knees and | 4 |
theory and practice of | 4 |
shaped leaves of rich | 4 |
in a half lethargy | 4 |
at the old park | 4 |
what i sought to | 4 |
cannot too often repeat | 4 |
to the soul of | 4 |
i think i could | 4 |
there is not a | 4 |
from place to place | 4 |
for two or three | 4 |
the united states of | 4 |
any one of these | 4 |
at second or third | 4 |
world of gain and | 4 |
the breath of life | 4 |
near as i can | 4 |
the show of the | 4 |
that the united states | 4 |
think i know you | 4 |
the main part of | 4 |
moon gives you light | 4 |
could not refuse this | 4 |
i will give you | 4 |
if that would save | 4 |
as much as a | 4 |
have written to han | 4 |
and divine and brother | 4 |
the moon gives you | 4 |
head in your lap | 4 |
could never kill what | 4 |
grave of him i | 4 |
lay with my head | 4 |
was by no means | 4 |
as it may sound | 4 |
and be of strong | 4 |
in the history of | 4 |
i cannot too often | 4 |
the prudence of the | 4 |
same as the men | 4 |
on her dead gazing | 4 |
the rank and file | 4 |
the new york times | 4 |
of the wounded and | 4 |
i also give you | 4 |
from new york city | 4 |
i enter the doors | 4 |
now it seems to | 4 |
me through and through | 4 |
is the face of | 4 |
state of new york | 4 |
part of the afternoon | 4 |
the scenes at the | 4 |
and through all the | 4 |
for over an hour | 4 |
young man and woman | 4 |
not heard anything from | 4 |
for the purpose of | 4 |
up from the front | 4 |
wounded in the house | 4 |
and over all the | 4 |
often as you can | 4 |
to do with the | 4 |
by day and night | 4 |
foot of a tree | 4 |
as i lay with | 4 |
young men and maidens | 4 |
earth and of man | 4 |
fly like a bird | 4 |
dead on their backs | 4 |
the shape of a | 4 |
how can i but | 4 |
in the hands of | 4 |
the lands of the | 4 |
and waves wash the | 4 |
and i will show | 4 |
there are all sorts | 4 |
gain and appearance and | 4 |
the return of the | 4 |
in a few days | 4 |
and i saw the | 4 |
the army and navy | 4 |
i am firm with | 4 |
owner of the library | 4 |
refuse this moment to | 4 |
poetry of the future | 4 |
one of the wards | 4 |
and that it is | 4 |
think i could not | 4 |
my breast a fire | 4 |
in the hospitals and | 4 |
where the city stands | 4 |
at the bottom of | 4 |
the greatest poet does | 4 |
he was in the | 4 |
it is enough to | 4 |
with my head in | 4 |
and all the rest | 4 |
are some of the | 4 |
sing the song of | 4 |
to die for you | 4 |
my head in your | 4 |
the eternal tendencies of | 4 |
seems to me to | 4 |
anything of the kind | 4 |
the flash of the | 4 |
of wounded and sick | 4 |
it is just the | 4 |
their arms about each | 4 |
wound in the abdomen | 4 |
rose prophetic a voice | 4 |
i adhere to my | 4 |
the foot of a | 4 |
a good deal in | 4 |
i suppose you have | 4 |
from the british islands | 4 |
the average man of | 4 |
their work is done | 4 |
i have dreamed that | 4 |
of all toward happiness | 4 |
rest of the world | 4 |
and brother of all | 4 |
i think it was | 4 |
was in the habit | 4 |
suppose you got a | 4 |
i suppose it is | 4 |
for you up there | 4 |
shall never run out | 4 |
there in the fragrant | 4 |
drums give you music | 4 |
it comes to me | 4 |
by the bedside of | 4 |
the poets of the | 4 |
hope this will find | 4 |
kiss dwells on these | 4 |
deep in my breast | 4 |
is not so much | 4 |
with here and there | 4 |
and all that is | 4 |
feel as if i | 4 |
not heard anything of | 4 |
of clover and timothy | 4 |
there shall be love | 4 |
bend your proud neck | 4 |
down to the river | 4 |
with hinged knees returning | 4 |
by one of the | 4 |
i think it is | 4 |
through the whole of | 4 |
the make of the | 4 |
or at any rate | 4 |
i was so glad | 4 |
over the carnage rose | 4 |
dwells on these bearded | 4 |
is nothing new with | 4 |
remainder of the earth | 4 |
the child and the | 4 |
reality of the soul | 4 |
these and more i | 4 |
open space in the | 4 |
and of all the | 4 |
a few lines from | 4 |
the life of these | 4 |
the valleys of the | 4 |
i gave him a | 4 |
on the bare ground | 4 |
one or two other | 4 |
to the right and | 4 |
i could not refuse | 4 |
said he did not | 4 |
the idea of political | 4 |
the glory of the | 4 |
the st new york | 4 |
way through the hospitals | 4 |
and my loving comrade | 4 |
be of strong heart | 4 |
again on earth responding | 4 |
welcome those of the | 4 |
while i have been | 4 |
one turns to me | 4 |
we know not why | 4 |
more than half the | 4 |
the world of gain | 4 |
yet deep in my | 4 |
fields of clover and | 4 |
i think he is | 4 |
a great poem is | 4 |
greatest poet does not | 4 |
and at night the | 4 |
the home of the | 4 |
the best part of | 4 |
as if they were | 4 |
is in its place | 4 |
it is useless to | 4 |
at night in the | 4 |
but out of the | 4 |
every now and then | 4 |
and the bugles and | 4 |
the lines of the | 4 |
the dead on their | 4 |
moment to die for | 4 |
the sentiment of the | 4 |
the house of friends | 4 |
me his appealing eyes | 4 |
ghostly pines so still | 4 |
thou mother with thy | 4 |
with thy equal brood | 4 |
adieu to a soldier | 4 |
the like of these | 4 |
seems to me it | 4 |
i dare not say | 4 |
to new york city | 4 |
as it is to | 4 |
and is to be | 4 |
turns to me his | 4 |
dare not say how | 4 |
have i also give | 4 |
half an hour high | 4 |
bivouac on a mountain | 4 |
space in the woods | 4 |
the most affluent man | 4 |
how i should like | 4 |
of the women of | 4 |
there is nothing new | 4 |
to be found in | 4 |
the imprints off the | 4 |
all great works on | 4 |
the work of the | 4 |
made up my mind | 4 |
the bedside of a | 4 |
an open space in | 4 |
to each and all | 4 |
i begin to see | 4 |
of the body and | 4 |
tendencies of all toward | 4 |
it has been the | 4 |
the experience sweet and | 4 |
wash of the sea | 4 |
quite a good deal | 4 |
in the hour of | 4 |
i lay with my | 4 |
back again give me | 4 |
of logs and mud | 4 |
poets of the kosmos | 4 |
of the british islands | 4 |
the scene of the | 4 |
have no idea how | 4 |
idea of political liberty | 4 |
with cheeks yet blooming | 4 |
wash the imprints off | 4 |
of these states must | 4 |
sat looking at him | 4 |
in the eastern sky | 4 |
dead and divine and | 4 |
what i have i | 4 |
the poetry of the | 4 |
as there is in | 4 |
carnage rose prophetic a | 4 |
experience sweet and sad | 4 |
suppose you got my | 4 |
of gain and appearance | 4 |
thread my way through | 4 |
on the field one | 4 |
some are so young | 4 |
the neck of the | 4 |
i see again the | 4 |
do what i can | 4 |
at dead of night | 4 |
eternal tendencies of all | 4 |
the two or three | 4 |
rise and fall of | 4 |
and mirth goes on | 4 |
of the society of | 4 |
the mother of many | 4 |
seems to me i | 4 |
pacify with soothing hand | 4 |
but i hope it | 4 |
in a certain sense | 4 |
as he sees the | 4 |
there is a good | 4 |
i have seen many | 4 |
but i know it | 4 |
the laws of the | 4 |
i will try to | 4 |
the greatest poet is | 4 |
i have not had | 4 |
dear to me my | 4 |
the nations of the | 4 |
for a thousand years | 4 |
in the distance the | 4 |
in the new testament | 4 |
am firm with each | 4 |
south and the north | 4 |
part of the earth | 4 |
for the death of | 4 |
leaves of rich green | 4 |
of the great lakes | 4 |
to put on record | 4 |
think often of him | 4 |
in my breast a | 4 |
kill what you really | 4 |
without a cent of | 4 |
so soon what is | 4 |
the roof over the | 4 |
hinged knees and steady | 4 |
my heart gives you | 4 |
restless all the dark | 4 |
i pacify with soothing | 4 |
war of attempted secession | 4 |
with sweat and dust | 4 |
imprints off the sand | 4 |
the surgeon in charge | 4 |
with their arms about | 4 |
the war of attempted | 4 |
the results of the | 4 |
i know not what | 4 |
the side of the | 4 |
the south and the | 4 |
is to be said | 4 |
the camp hospitals in | 4 |
look down fair moon | 4 |
of the day and | 4 |
about this neck have | 4 |
song of the broad | 4 |
is the life of | 4 |
what is over forgotten | 4 |
whatever may be said | 4 |
i should say that | 4 |
you got a letter | 4 |
i can tell you | 4 |
the dead and wounded | 4 |
i wish to see | 4 |
of all the nations | 4 |
sit by the restless | 4 |
there is in the | 4 |
dress with impassive hand | 4 |
most affluent man is | 4 |
through the middle of | 4 |
in front of the | 4 |
eastern and western seas | 4 |
strange i kept on | 4 |
to a certain civilian | 4 |
i never knew you | 4 |
more than any other | 4 |
after the rest is | 4 |
some suffer so much | 4 |
the remainder of the | 4 |
must have been about | 4 |
on the death of | 4 |
never kill what you | 4 |
never again on earth | 4 |
the land and sea | 4 |
will see if i | 4 |
is a pretty time | 3 |
i swear i will | 3 |
crawl along the streets | 3 |
fancied i heard through | 3 |
with their guns on | 3 |
is not in the | 3 |
face nor child nor | 3 |
by all the earth | 3 |
but risk and defy | 3 |
shaped heir who approaches | 3 |
a tireless phantom flitted | 3 |
resume as i chant | 3 |
through all the middle | 3 |
to come home for | 3 |
buckle the straps carefully | 3 |
through all the doorways | 3 |
the sorrowful vast phantom | 3 |
forty millions of people | 3 |
in man or woman | 3 |
over all the sea | 3 |
manly life in the | 3 |
a memorandum at a | 3 |
so strong you thump | 3 |
talking to its children | 3 |
you to do with | 3 |
gloomiest fears and doubts | 3 |
i should say it | 3 |
to the south and | 3 |
stands behind aside me | 3 |
i bend to the | 3 |
as they tramp down | 3 |
is the exuding of | 3 |
desperate vengeful port strides | 3 |
midnight glimmer upon us | 3 |
to wear their accoutrements | 3 |
hear and see not | 3 |
transparent after the rain | 3 |
path near by the | 3 |
would be too fearful | 3 |
lay on the ground | 3 |
then to the third | 3 |
as stars in the | 3 |
the women and men | 3 |
that she might withdraw | 3 |
song to the soul | 3 |
how i could hug | 3 |
strikes me through and | 3 |
the side of her | 3 |
union with my letter | 3 |
your cluster of stars | 3 |
scoots in showers on | 3 |
the immense area of | 3 |
in companies or regiments | 3 |
many a solemn day | 3 |
each distinct and in | 3 |
best i see in | 3 |
yet not a word | 3 |
earth make contributions here | 3 |
million children around her | 3 |
we advance our latent | 3 |
a number of them | 3 |
a little more than | 3 |
of those houses to | 3 |
is full of people | 3 |
but i have no | 3 |
identify you to the | 3 |
foremost ranks of the | 3 |
is certain that the | 3 |
stop for no expostulation | 3 |
glisten of the little | 3 |
by where i stand | 3 |
want to recognize the | 3 |
the bottom of my | 3 |
some on planks or | 3 |
white in the face | 3 |
a large old church | 3 |
i see the farmers | 3 |
rise in the court | 3 |
through the mighty woods | 3 |
and the sea never | 3 |
the night emerging for | 3 |
earlier hours of evening | 3 |
now we advance our | 3 |
their turbulent musical chorus | 3 |
to nothing known or | 3 |
which it would be | 3 |
and at last but | 3 |
me with long finger | 3 |
o you up there | 3 |
so transparent after the | 3 |
fresh corn and wheat | 3 |
the hands of a | 3 |
the single figure to | 3 |
from my tent i | 3 |
inward law and light | 3 |
see in the sky | 3 |
on the face of | 3 |
the name of these | 3 |
going to write to | 3 |
ground where father and | 3 |
one of the officers | 3 |
when thou must indeed | 3 |
young men i love | 3 |
in the midnight waking | 3 |
the water and air | 3 |
the matter and blood | 3 |
sound of the drum | 3 |
the immense wind which | 3 |
samples of my common | 3 |
in the sky beckoning | 3 |
show them how to | 3 |
spreads and runs so | 3 |
and my western shore | 3 |
soul of one poor | 3 |
led the rest to | 3 |
out of the ground | 3 |
give me a field | 3 |
this contentious soul of | 3 |
the like of the | 3 |
of hurried and glittering | 3 |
years as a pageant | 3 |
rumble of wheels in | 3 |
the broadcast doings of | 3 |
three or four days | 3 |
over the area spread | 3 |
come to an open | 3 |
shall serve for our | 3 |
precious results of peace | 3 |
return from the battles | 3 |
so many of the | 3 |
do not see one | 3 |
me comrades and lovers | 3 |
you in the hour | 3 |
their fields or barns | 3 |
shouted orders or calls | 3 |
sped to the certainties | 3 |
with her million children | 3 |
where they lie awaiting | 3 |
yet lean over their | 3 |
earth and the sea | 3 |
nothing new with me | 3 |
it is this day | 3 |
yet we know not | 3 |
off the costumes of | 3 |
behold what comes here | 3 |
mere strips of cloth | 3 |
five or six days | 3 |
me the sound of | 3 |
storms of the mountains | 3 |
mightiest armies of earth | 3 |
steps in the darkness | 3 |
the white tents cluster | 3 |
dress a wound in | 3 |
from east and west | 3 |
with all its cities | 3 |
of bleeding to death | 3 |
got my letter of | 3 |
not only in the | 3 |
then there is a | 3 |
only son is dead | 3 |
while in the door | 3 |
or to the rows | 3 |
wrote to george yesterday | 3 |
were not as was | 3 |
pillow the soldier bends | 3 |
their guns on their | 3 |
the knowledge of the | 3 |
of all that is | 3 |
i see the results | 3 |
and fife were heard | 3 |
i want to come | 3 |
devoting the whole identity | 3 |
you rise higher than | 3 |
on floats the sea | 3 |
as if it were | 3 |
thick as stars in | 3 |
how your soft opera | 3 |
i pass to the | 3 |
fluttering in the moderate | 3 |
swims before her eyes | 3 |
costumes of peace with | 3 |
that the hands of | 3 |
in peace and wealth | 3 |
house of my friends | 3 |
plains west of the | 3 |
and every blow of | 3 |
skeletons of young men | 3 |
does it say to | 3 |
the path near by | 3 |
piping the pipe of | 3 |
leave me your pulses | 3 |
lie on the ground | 3 |
in a lull of | 3 |
the last three weeks | 3 |
the menacing might of | 3 |
and the charm of | 3 |
o wild as my | 3 |
catching the glint of | 3 |
the costumes of peace | 3 |
and lovers by the | 3 |
of the poets of | 3 |
enough to make a | 3 |
where you undulate like | 3 |
what were those storms | 3 |
as the sound of | 3 |
your pulses of rage | 3 |
little child taught me | 3 |
look where he lies | 3 |
have done me good | 3 |
of the bloody forms | 3 |
nothing at all to | 3 |
the birds know in | 3 |
the great convulsive drums | 3 |
of the poetry of | 3 |
behold not banners and | 3 |
silvery face you soothe | 3 |
i have rejected nothing | 3 |
noise and be of | 3 |
chord and twine in | 3 |
through a heavy wood | 3 |
is to gain nothing | 3 |
those the strangest and | 3 |
of a door leans | 3 |
from paumanok starting i | 3 |
was with him a | 3 |
file by where i | 3 |
four or five times | 3 |
through where i waited | 3 |
news from the south | 3 |
to recognize the southern | 3 |
in washington is a | 3 |
the mother kisses her | 3 |
heard the wind piping | 3 |
in the western sky | 3 |
these and much else | 3 |
all teeming and wealthy | 3 |
indeed learn to chant | 3 |
i should have to | 3 |
up and down in | 3 |
and the fields they | 3 |
undo the clotted lint | 3 |
i sweep my eyes | 3 |
the united states is | 3 |
and again to california | 3 |
the globe uprisen around | 3 |
pride and joy in | 3 |
camp hospitals in the | 3 |
hot sun shining south | 3 |
is the result of | 3 |
to procure incessantly asking | 3 |
old men show them | 3 |
again to the southern | 3 |
might of the globe | 3 |
theme is clear at | 3 |
the fierce assault they | 3 |
and play with the | 3 |
of the men are | 3 |
he will never be | 3 |
some in the death | 3 |
feet thick at the | 3 |
brave and simple soul | 3 |
son kisses his mother | 3 |
read the following chapter | 3 |
he lay with his | 3 |
every one of those | 3 |
in the air in | 3 |
o now it seems | 3 |
we come to an | 3 |
little or no attention | 3 |
is all wasted away | 3 |
city of the world | 3 |
she speak to detain | 3 |
and the little one | 3 |
to a foiled revolter | 3 |
abruptly down on the | 3 |
he is a young | 3 |
rows of the hospital | 3 |
the bursting forth of | 3 |
a mournful wail and | 3 |
we have seen the | 3 |
the strangest and sudden | 3 |
and had a good | 3 |
and clouds of smoke | 3 |
face in the coffin | 3 |
maws of the waves | 3 |
but now from the | 3 |
certainties suitable to me | 3 |
shouts of millions of | 3 |
steady hand to dress | 3 |
i see on stretchers | 3 |
on the ground before | 3 |
do hope you will | 3 |
an occasional scream or | 3 |
too much of the | 3 |
and life of the | 3 |
for all the rest | 3 |
i see a sight | 3 |
to the southern plantation | 3 |
amid all your children | 3 |
i burst through where | 3 |
gleeful tides continually rush | 3 |
you to the future | 3 |
from the steeples of | 3 |
with a sort of | 3 |
do i like money | 3 |
father and child stand | 3 |
a man divine as | 3 |
what stays with you | 3 |
the son of a | 3 |
lived to behold man | 3 |
for ever and ever | 3 |
saw they were not | 3 |
more than any one | 3 |
muffled steps in the | 3 |
weave the chord and | 3 |
wound in the breast | 3 |
loudly shout in the | 3 |
the fields they moisten | 3 |
loth is the mother | 3 |
from life escape and | 3 |
speaks through her sobs | 3 |
i glance at the | 3 |
to be treated with | 3 |
the arms and legs | 3 |
smell you the smell | 3 |
and now and then | 3 |
the old man beseeching | 3 |
soul trampling down what | 3 |
valley of the mississippi | 3 |
on my eastern shore | 3 |
the shape of my | 3 |
so gaunt and grim | 3 |
i hear the jubilant | 3 |
speak to detain him | 3 |
a letter for him | 3 |
advancing with menacing front | 3 |
over the long bridge | 3 |
the glare of pine | 3 |
deck my captain lies | 3 |
the flashes of lightning | 3 |
silent from life escape | 3 |
in relief against the | 3 |
then the eyes close | 3 |
so shrill you bugles | 3 |
and my kansas fields | 3 |
to me night after | 3 |
in kings and queens | 3 |
all that is yours | 3 |
they lie awaiting the | 3 |
rustling cedars and pines | 3 |
tears were in his | 3 |
i confess i have | 3 |
the yard outside also | 3 |
then there was a | 3 |
while you beat and | 3 |
for a manly life | 3 |
on the beach of | 3 |
be a relief to | 3 |
the blossoming buckwheat fields | 3 |
from the top of | 3 |
and by one great | 3 |
man beseeching the young | 3 |
be no more priests | 3 |
bees were lately buzzing | 3 |
demons and death then | 3 |
all his beams full | 3 |
from the sky low | 3 |
him a good deal | 3 |
the prisoners in the | 3 |
you ought to see | 3 |
white skeletons of young | 3 |
it is undeniable that | 3 |
descended to the stalwart | 3 |
have no doubt the | 3 |
see a sad procession | 3 |
it is impossible to | 3 |
one or two of | 3 |
seems to be a | 3 |
you smile with joy | 3 |
floats the sea in | 3 |
me a field where | 3 |
it is to me | 3 |
i shall not soon | 3 |
many more to come | 3 |
i looking up at | 3 |
the plains west of | 3 |
and now the halyards | 3 |
the welcome for battle | 3 |
and is more the | 3 |
the sisters death and | 3 |
we go forth to | 3 |
men and women like | 3 |
them how to wear | 3 |
lumber forests of the | 3 |
come home one of | 3 |
from top to toe | 3 |
the little sisters huddle | 3 |
and carried hither and | 3 |
with eddies and foam | 3 |
much to do with | 3 |
see the farmers working | 3 |
not houses of peace | 3 |
be that pennant would | 3 |
men file by where | 3 |
for many a century | 3 |
know in the woods | 3 |
have now with his | 3 |
for all races are | 3 |
to read the following | 3 |
here in the hospitals | 3 |
where i waited long | 3 |
whole forests of them | 3 |
endless along the trottoirs | 3 |
in the beauty of | 3 |
tell me all about | 3 |
saw from below what | 3 |
exuding of the greatness | 3 |
the th army corps | 3 |
to the edge of | 3 |
prepared in the mountains | 3 |
city of wharves and | 3 |
and the rivers great | 3 |
i see mechanics working | 3 |
as i walk these | 3 |
queens and suffolk counties | 3 |
the identities of the | 3 |
cool of the far | 3 |
and the strong dead | 3 |
rest of the earth | 3 |
just as i was | 3 |
i like to stand | 3 |
i see the countless | 3 |
he is shot in | 3 |
regiments arrive every day | 3 |
the great drums pounding | 3 |
of millions of men | 3 |
he died a few | 3 |
son is brought with | 3 |
hospitals are very full | 3 |
do not know what | 3 |
a field where the | 3 |
as i have said | 3 |
song through your streets | 3 |
and the sound of | 3 |
the sound of soldiers | 3 |
the present and future | 3 |
seems to me the | 3 |
their way to the | 3 |
what the earth gave | 3 |
on planks or stretchers | 3 |
the ear of the | 3 |
chin in my hands | 3 |
pennant would be too | 3 |
carried hither and yon | 3 |
destroy those valuable houses | 3 |
not only of the | 3 |
with the soldiers marching | 3 |
from second bull run | 3 |
sick and wounded soldiers | 3 |
am not the sea | 3 |
continually preceding my steps | 3 |
i thought it would | 3 |
go forth to receive | 3 |
my enemy is dead | 3 |
but to mount up | 3 |
i chant it for | 3 |
but be indeed yourself | 3 |
on the pavement here | 3 |
uniform with my country | 3 |
these broad majestic days | 3 |
memorandum at a venture | 3 |
they lie on the | 3 |
i will not write | 3 |
clear to me that | 3 |
order of the universe | 3 |
witness around me to | 3 |
as i glance upward | 3 |
you latest and deepest | 3 |
as on high plateaus | 3 |
and in the midst | 3 |
lie awaiting the hearses | 3 |
far as i have | 3 |
can there ever be | 3 |
of the human race | 3 |
give me comrades and | 3 |
plunge in the fight | 3 |
icy cool of the | 3 |
of war is mine | 3 |
even the sight of | 3 |
jamb of a door | 3 |
smile gives he me | 3 |
the old men show | 3 |
seems to me a | 3 |
a copy of the | 3 |
if i were to | 3 |
other across the sky | 3 |
fittest for his days | 3 |
rush of successful charge | 3 |
not the immense wind | 3 |
and the dear little | 3 |
be fittest for his | 3 |
not tarry to smooth | 3 |
the icy cool of | 3 |
and use the wings | 3 |
of course there is | 3 |
leaving all the rest | 3 |
and wealth you were | 3 |
they shall not be | 3 |
at news from the | 3 |
world take good notice | 3 |
to crawl along the | 3 |
it has come to | 3 |
a chant of fullest | 3 |
put on record my | 3 |
of the night emerging | 3 |
as soon as you | 3 |
war will never get | 3 |
and the drums strike | 3 |
blood reddens the grass | 3 |
upward air where their | 3 |
i see populous cities | 3 |
blister out of my | 3 |
you ought to get | 3 |
if i thought it | 3 |
a few years ago | 3 |
verse with streams of | 3 |
for marriage a sweet | 3 |
crows here in the | 3 |
as will be seen | 3 |
walk these broad majestic | 3 |
foot with the bullet | 3 |
drawn by the locomotives | 3 |
and from new york | 3 |
lightly over the stones | 3 |
fast as she can | 3 |
in the secession war | 3 |
strike with vengeful stroke | 3 |
this in my room | 3 |
the pictures and poems | 3 |
sight beyond all the | 3 |
death of president lincoln | 3 |
quite glazed already the | 3 |
rumble lightly over the | 3 |
the judge leaving the | 3 |
to me that the | 3 |
of wheels in the | 3 |
never get in the | 3 |
pensive on her dead | 3 |
it seems to be | 3 |
cross from shore to | 3 |
my own soul trampling | 3 |
letter says pete will | 3 |
hear the great drums | 3 |
for the sake of | 3 |
water and air i | 3 |
me juicy autumnal fruit | 3 |
will never be better | 3 |
the body of the | 3 |
o this is not | 3 |
to be able to | 3 |
one of these spacious | 3 |
those houses to destroy | 3 |
follow without noise and | 3 |
men and women are | 3 |
higher than ever yet | 3 |
but now i no | 3 |
have every one of | 3 |
of light and shade | 3 |
strong bird on pinions | 3 |
just as much in | 3 |
sound of soldiers marching | 3 |
and high in the | 3 |
to absorb it all | 3 |
a letter from the | 3 |
there can be any | 3 |
behold man burst forth | 3 |
fingers i from the | 3 |
and beat the drum | 3 |
at last but a | 3 |
themselves were fully at | 3 |
from the fields come | 3 |
great as it is | 3 |
where father and child | 3 |
while yet incessantly asking | 3 |
shout in the rush | 3 |
and what does it | 3 |
wail and low sob | 3 |
on in the ranks | 3 |
moving around among the | 3 |
the beach of the | 3 |
glimmer upon us the | 3 |
by the hospital tent | 3 |
gnawing and putrid gangrene | 3 |
every one of the | 3 |
the hour of danger | 3 |
what does it say | 3 |
doings of the day | 3 |
me the union with | 3 |
and yet we know | 3 |
last but a few | 3 |
it uniform with my | 3 |
on high plateaus west | 3 |
as i told you | 3 |
enwinding arms of cool | 3 |
in life and death | 3 |
in the country again | 3 |
of the time in | 3 |
and in its place | 3 |
i am fond of | 3 |
by the jamb of | 3 |
flapping in the wind | 3 |
to sing the song | 3 |
how well i remember | 3 |
advance our latent and | 3 |
you to tell us | 3 |
with their powerful throbs | 3 |
adhere to my city | 3 |
on the bayonets bristling | 3 |
at all to you | 3 |
there in the swamp | 3 |
a face nor child | 3 |
longer let our children | 3 |
is only to be | 3 |
discarding peace over all | 3 |
to each in the | 3 |
forts on the shores | 3 |
since i have been | 3 |
objects and knowledge curious | 3 |
things in the houses | 3 |
eyes your forests of | 3 |
every bit as much | 3 |
daughter speaks through her | 3 |
cold dirges of the | 3 |
of my leaves of | 3 |
from the western sea | 3 |
in a day or | 3 |
to receive what the | 3 |
and that love me | 3 |
i am sorry to | 3 |
ripe and red from | 3 |
sources and rills of | 3 |
the stars and stripes | 3 |
of the crowd for | 3 |
than any of the | 3 |
home one of these | 3 |
men and maidens that | 3 |
left on the staffs | 3 |
soul and glittering eyes | 3 |
happiness must he have | 3 |
frame all wasted and | 3 |
i have thought that | 3 |
how it climbs with | 3 |
these to procure incessantly | 3 |
three or four hours | 3 |
as i cross the | 3 |
yet giving to make | 3 |
advancing out of the | 3 |
forth to receive what | 3 |
with the measureless light | 3 |
to destroy those valuable | 3 |
not through the mighty | 3 |
returning to new york | 3 |
in leaves of grass | 3 |
let them identify you | 3 |
the exuding of the | 3 |
pictures and poems ever | 3 |
hat to nothing known | 3 |
in danger of bleeding | 3 |
speak to the child | 3 |
and the prattled yearning | 3 |
red from the orchard | 3 |
all the lands of | 3 |
the jamb of a | 3 |
my theme is clear | 3 |
the white combs where | 3 |
is a great deal | 3 |
to me not only | 3 |
o star of france | 3 |
rousing the land with | 3 |
i will have to | 3 |
peaceful farmer any peace | 3 |
the identity formed out | 3 |
a specimen of the | 3 |
below what arose and | 3 |
with stars brought from | 3 |
the beach on my | 3 |
keep your splendid silent | 3 |
on one of the | 3 |
he is dead already | 3 |
i waited the bursting | 3 |
mind not the timid | 3 |
as henceforth i see | 3 |
and the war is | 3 |
priceless blood reddens the | 3 |
of the young men | 3 |
chant of fullest welcome | 3 |
in the court to | 3 |
now the drum of | 3 |
glazed already the eye | 3 |
in the growth of | 3 |
you beat and beat | 3 |
it ought to be | 3 |
i can almost see | 3 |
lightly falls from the | 3 |
lawyer leaving his office | 3 |
hear the tramp of | 3 |
omnibus jaunts and drivers | 3 |
i sat down by | 3 |
was so glad to | 3 |
of this teeming and | 3 |
in a few hours | 3 |
demanding to have them | 3 |
cool fresh air the | 3 |
shot in the abdomen | 3 |
give me the sound | 3 |
men and women as | 3 |
of the spiritual world | 3 |
my love to dear | 3 |
our voice persuasive no | 3 |
the towering rocks along | 3 |
and maidens that love | 3 |
without noise and be | 3 |
i have incarnated you | 3 |
in the middle and | 3 |
crowd of the bloody | 3 |
a sight beyond all | 3 |
bullets and slugs whizz | 3 |
city of the sea | 3 |
jagged threads of lightning | 3 |
second or third hand | 3 |
i see trains of | 3 |
nick of time i | 3 |
but it is a | 3 |
as in a swoon | 3 |
in showers on the | 3 |
i dare say you | 3 |
it is a beautiful | 3 |
singer attempt to sing | 3 |
the only son is | 3 |
and all that was | 3 |
to passions i witness | 3 |
the call of the | 3 |
the letter says pete | 3 |
voices and with tears | 3 |
the great city stands | 3 |
pass to the lumber | 3 |
to mount up there | 3 |
the unshakable order of | 3 |
i sought to escape | 3 |
but i know that | 3 |
time be utterly lost | 3 |
hope you will not | 3 |
ever and for ever | 3 |
cavalry crossing a ford | 3 |
last in the dooryard | 3 |
the scent of the | 3 |
with her dear dead | 3 |
death under the black | 3 |
nor musical labial sound | 3 |
i have been wandering | 3 |
i will not have | 3 |
slept on their breast | 3 |
combing over the beach | 3 |
thunder bellows after the | 3 |
i ascended the towering | 3 |
with leaves fluttering in | 3 |
make little or no | 3 |
the earth gave me | 3 |
me to warble spontaneous | 3 |
is white as a | 3 |
places by the woods | 3 |
grown daughter speaks through | 3 |
the lady of this | 3 |
life in the camp | 3 |
us the lights of | 3 |
a little while in | 3 |
it was fittest for | 3 |
to you it says | 3 |
starting i fly like | 3 |
for sleepers at night | 3 |
of the new york | 3 |
make even the trestles | 3 |
of william cullen bryant | 3 |
the greatest original practical | 3 |
shown through the dark | 3 |
i see my own | 3 |
men yet lean over | 3 |
longing with one deep | 3 |
contributes the greatest original | 3 |
more with tender lip | 3 |
it is such a | 3 |
i sing you haughty | 3 |
the northern solitary wilds | 3 |
the sea in distant | 3 |
am not the wind | 3 |
while the attendant stands | 3 |
and has not yet | 3 |
the bullet through and | 3 |
the attendant stands behind | 3 |
the soul of man | 3 |
was shot through the | 3 |
how she gave the | 3 |
hand writes for our | 3 |
to me as i | 3 |
the endless and noisy | 3 |
hear outside the orders | 3 |
of the grapes on | 3 |
in the army of | 3 |
without reserving an atom | 3 |
city whose gleeful tides | 3 |
i do not condemn | 3 |
be terror and carnage | 3 |
waiting secure and content | 3 |
state his case before | 3 |
will never to me | 3 |
a hundred and fifty | 3 |
song is there in | 3 |
one of those houses | 3 |
but i could not | 3 |
i like to watch | 3 |
and a sort of | 3 |
all the middle states | 3 |
paumanok starting i fly | 3 |
not the old man | 3 |
i see them in | 3 |
strange hand writes for | 3 |
of peace with indifferent | 3 |
while the other stars | 3 |
my leaves of grass | 3 |
and steady hand to | 3 |
i chant and celebrate | 3 |
and dull in the | 3 |
the books of the | 3 |
the hand every day | 3 |
i have seen so | 3 |
has no reason to | 3 |
yet the tears were | 3 |
and sudden your talking | 3 |
of city and country | 3 |
approach and pass on | 3 |
see new ones every | 3 |
they stand at home | 3 |
with the mothers of | 3 |
of the flush of | 3 |
heard through the dark | 3 |
single figure to me | 3 |
any more than the | 3 |
for objects and knowledge | 3 |
some in the pews | 3 |
though it may be | 3 |
it climbs with daring | 3 |
of these years i | 3 |
the brain of the | 3 |
face is the face | 3 |
the late secession war | 3 |
kings and queens counties | 3 |
of the first class | 3 |
as a strong bird | 3 |
will seek no more | 3 |
this teeming and turbulent | 3 |
nor the material good | 3 |
i see far in | 3 |
dress the perforated shoulder | 3 |
the wind piping the | 3 |
i like not the | 3 |
maidens and young men | 3 |
the past forty years | 3 |
western shore the same | 3 |
in the fields all | 3 |
early part of the | 3 |
pete will soon be | 3 |
as often as you | 3 |
but now the drum | 3 |
the future will be | 3 |
noted the slender and | 3 |
any of the soldiers | 3 |
from the age of | 3 |
my soul i fed | 3 |
i swear i begin | 3 |
the lawyer leaving his | 3 |
as i glance at | 3 |
your forests of bayonets | 3 |
of the conception of | 3 |
of death and immortality | 3 |
fade from my eyes | 3 |
now i no longer | 3 |
of cars swiftly speeding | 3 |
till after midnight glimmer | 3 |
more than anything else | 3 |
the dark by those | 3 |
on a mountain side | 3 |
of one poor little | 3 |
it waits a little | 3 |
the subject of the | 3 |
contentious soul of mine | 3 |
turning upon me oft | 3 |
does not tarry to | 3 |
nor in that condition | 3 |
the bugles and the | 3 |
would like to have | 3 |
of the peaceful land | 3 |
you whirr and pound | 3 |
thee a chant of | 3 |
of the light or | 3 |
and mark the solid | 3 |
in the cool fresh | 3 |
and you will never | 3 |
it is all for | 3 |
the th day of | 3 |
you had something to | 3 |
the reins abruptly down | 3 |
only flapping in the | 3 |
i hear the cry | 3 |
smoke of the battles | 3 |
and i hear the | 3 |
in answer to children | 3 |
than one eyesight countervails | 3 |
and the next day | 3 |
what you ask of | 3 |
yesterday and last night | 3 |
she gave the cue | 3 |
undulate round the world | 3 |
low sob i fancied | 3 |
and touch lightly with | 3 |
word of the modern | 3 |
by those flashes of | 3 |
harsh to the last | 3 |
it is not a | 3 |
am well and hearty | 3 |
depart i sweep my | 3 |
on top of the | 3 |
what was that swell | 3 |
and ampler hunger to | 3 |
to an open space | 3 |
death then i sing | 3 |
i went down to | 3 |
she catches the main | 3 |
to pavements and homesteads | 3 |
to see if i | 3 |
that there is not | 3 |
i would write you | 3 |
spent a good part | 3 |
the death of abraham | 3 |
how democracy with desperate | 3 |
or seventy or eighty | 3 |
as the war was | 3 |
in the woods and | 3 |
undulate like a snake | 3 |
loud you bugles blow | 3 |
he did not fear | 3 |
i see the stores | 3 |
this face is the | 3 |
i sing you only | 3 |
be with her dear | 3 |
him if he did | 3 |
long for my soul | 3 |
i have written you | 3 |
see forts on the | 3 |
broadcast doings of the | 3 |
see a sight beyond | 3 |
qua non of the | 3 |
after the battle brought | 3 |
stump of the arm | 3 |
the area spread below | 3 |
have writ to george | 3 |
if i can get | 3 |
that ever lashes its | 3 |
men show them how | 3 |
i am with you | 3 |
one with a gnawing | 3 |
give me faces and | 3 |
other was equally brave | 3 |
it is to gain | 3 |
i fancied i heard | 3 |
and young men i | 3 |
careering through its channels | 3 |
bequeath them to me | 3 |
she led the rest | 3 |
a generation or two | 3 |
that of the drum | 3 |
all that concerns them | 3 |
hurt and wounded i | 3 |
and of the best | 3 |
which unseen comes and | 3 |
letter from thy dear | 3 |
the movements of the | 3 |
but for a minute | 3 |
their past and present | 3 |
with the exception of | 3 |
hope it will be | 3 |
but i see the | 3 |
fierce you whirr and | 3 |
besides powder and wadding | 3 |
i depart i sweep | 3 |
you bent to me | 3 |
immortal and mystic hours | 3 |
bound for the war | 3 |
not countervail another any | 3 |
liquid wash of the | 3 |
of white and pink | 3 |
into the solemn church | 3 |
his eyes are closed | 3 |
of the middle of | 3 |
who was with me | 3 |
and i looking up | 3 |
not for us the | 3 |
the clouds and winds | 3 |
in the latter part | 3 |
not youth pertains to | 3 |
fly in the clouds | 3 |
formed out of thirty | 3 |
amid all teeming and | 3 |
new ones by the | 3 |
a part of my | 3 |
sun is mounting high | 3 |
i must tell you | 3 |
i have lived to | 3 |
i have ever seen | 3 |
the depths of my | 3 |
i see but you | 3 |
i no longer wait | 3 |
more than niagara pouring | 3 |
were heard in their | 3 |
nearly all the time | 3 |
now we go forth | 3 |
plateaus west of the | 3 |
ranks of policemen preceding | 3 |
but i saw they | 3 |
with muffled steps in | 3 |
to the end of | 3 |
every spear of grass | 3 |
worst of it is | 3 |
blow of the great | 3 |
up from the east | 3 |
keep your fields of | 3 |
the way you mean | 3 |
scene at the capitol | 3 |
the rush of successful | 3 |
on the surface of | 3 |
the centre of all | 3 |
you are saying is | 3 |
gave him something to | 3 |
i feel as if | 3 |
swaying to and fro | 3 |
the grapes on the | 3 |
down in the fields | 3 |
for good or bad | 3 |
so dear to me | 3 |
leaves fluttering in the | 3 |
pastoral tribes and nomads | 3 |
body to terror and | 3 |
what it is this | 3 |
i write this in | 3 |
and the farm prospers | 3 |
it talks to me | 3 |
a moment on the | 3 |
as with voices and | 3 |
and the sullen remnant | 3 |
pulse of my life | 3 |
do not deny the | 3 |
money so precious are | 3 |
and the armies that | 3 |
to the dying lad | 3 |
unshakable order of the | 3 |
army of the wounded | 3 |
working in their fields | 3 |
bottom of my heart | 3 |
how i love them | 3 |
us riches and peace | 3 |
i hear the tramp | 3 |
and again at sunset | 3 |
these phantoms incessant and | 3 |
is so broad it | 3 |
the pipe of death | 3 |
as from a height | 3 |
and grapes on the | 3 |
all between those shores | 3 |
sounds of the peaceful | 3 |
and yon through the | 3 |
suppose you have your | 3 |
same as the war | 3 |
beautiful as the sky | 3 |
tear not the bandage | 3 |
of whom i should | 3 |
one eyesight countervails another | 3 |
the united states are | 3 |
face and dull in | 3 |
but now you smile | 3 |
that pennant would be | 3 |
day and night to | 3 |
are all sorts of | 3 |
to the future in | 3 |
of the city streets | 3 |
up for the stupid | 3 |
the school where the | 3 |
no longer let our | 3 |
through the ceaseless rings | 3 |
them identify you to | 3 |
vengeful port strides on | 3 |
ten or twelve miles | 3 |
many of the wounded | 3 |
blent with the sounds | 3 |
soon to cease your | 3 |
the pavement quite has | 3 |
no more the food | 3 |
at any rate chant | 3 |
and ever will be | 3 |
women volunteering for nurses | 3 |
comrades and lovers by | 3 |
they chased each other | 3 |
and all that concerns | 3 |
blood of the city | 3 |
west the immense area | 3 |
it may have been | 3 |
the son is brought | 3 |
for ever and for | 3 |
my chin in my | 3 |
embark from the wharves | 3 |
there is something else | 3 |
on the water and | 3 |
where the bees were | 3 |
side of my starry | 3 |
in the heart of | 3 |
does she speak to | 3 |
flesh all sunken about | 3 |
nor all their prosperity | 3 |
of the sea are | 3 |
young man of the | 3 |
want to see jeff | 3 |
o the fierce ships | 3 |
slowly borne from the | 3 |
saw you had something | 3 |
of these and much | 3 |
with breath of flame | 3 |
from thy dear son | 3 |
passions i witness around | 3 |
they were placed in | 3 |
idylls of the king | 3 |
waves combing over the | 3 |
it has passed over | 3 |
of hours i knew | 3 |
i go every day | 3 |
give me the streets | 3 |
sing you haughty and | 3 |
between me and the | 3 |
the quiet places by | 3 |
slow i walk in | 3 |
of the power of | 3 |
the tears were in | 3 |
incessant and endless along | 3 |
on a full run | 3 |
as of beautiful yellow | 3 |
will try to write | 3 |
and the shores of | 3 |
fill me with anguish | 3 |
the earlier hours of | 3 |
is the same thing | 3 |
the best of them | 3 |
you threw off the | 3 |
night in the houses | 3 |
with desperate vengeful port | 3 |
many a savage scene | 3 |
returning i enter the | 3 |
hard the breathing rattles | 3 |
th day of the | 3 |
seventy or eighty years | 3 |
the thought of death | 3 |
dirges of the baffled | 3 |
and again to the | 3 |
any one i love | 3 |
yet i at any | 3 |
victress on the peaks | 3 |
the driver deserting his | 3 |
i emerge so early | 3 |
of the french revolution | 3 |
are saying is sorrowful | 3 |
i see in thee | 3 |
i heard through the | 3 |
and by far the | 3 |
he said he had | 3 |
i see what i | 3 |
look on the bloody | 3 |
as from young men | 3 |
it pleased him very | 3 |
as far as they | 3 |
see what i sought | 3 |
it is so broad | 3 |
whole theory of the | 3 |
that in the sky | 3 |
down to new orleans | 3 |
the stump of the | 3 |
and my illinois fields | 3 |
little while in the | 3 |
with the bullet through | 3 |
glint of the torches | 3 |
i saw they were | 3 |
for there is no | 3 |
or sail the stormy | 3 |
recognize the southern confederacy | 3 |
from young men and | 3 |
let me see new | 3 |
o maidens and young | 3 |
the west the immense | 3 |
that shall serve for | 3 |
bring thee a song | 3 |
i will seek no | 3 |
not the bandage away | 3 |
down in camden county | 3 |
the other stars all | 3 |
and endless along the | 3 |
o the crowd of | 3 |
i should never tire | 3 |
appearing in the distance | 3 |
the cool fresh air | 3 |
the front door come | 3 |
of these spacious and | 3 |
is here in washington | 3 |
i was in hopes | 3 |
in the pews laid | 3 |
for him at all | 3 |
real war will never | 3 |
and with the mothers | 3 |
a day or so | 3 |
for my own ears | 3 |
mount up there i | 3 |
to the long rows | 3 |
every day or night | 3 |
on their way to | 3 |
i witness around me | 3 |
fife were heard in | 3 |
into the school where | 3 |
voice and that of | 3 |
you the smell of | 3 |
far more numerous than | 3 |
where the scholar is | 3 |
man divine as myself | 3 |
in the depths of | 3 |
the material good nutriment | 3 |
babbles in brooks and | 3 |
aloft there flapping and | 3 |
with their brown faces | 3 |
garden of beautiful flowers | 3 |
pour the verse with | 3 |
to hear from han | 3 |
she does not tarry | 3 |
i never question you | 3 |
to be that pennant | 3 |
the threatening maws of | 3 |
to give me up | 3 |
a foiled revolter or | 3 |
something more deadly and | 3 |
of time and space | 3 |
hinged knees returning i | 3 |
now nearer blow the | 3 |
on their backs with | 3 |
i am very well | 3 |
of the poor young | 3 |
croaking like crows here | 3 |
that it is a | 3 |
but a few shreds | 3 |
to be with her | 3 |
i will write to | 3 |
give me a perfect | 3 |
as if to my | 3 |
i hear from above | 3 |
to the lumber forests | 3 |
look on the bayonets | 3 |
stays with you latest | 3 |
our hive at daybreak | 3 |
a couple of miles | 3 |
the precious results of | 3 |
your immortal strong nutriment | 3 |
the blue of the | 3 |
my eyes your forests | 3 |
me fresh corn and | 3 |
children deem us riches | 3 |
how envied by all | 3 |
the young men yet | 3 |
flung out from the | 3 |
yet a mournful wail | 3 |
i will show that | 3 |
give me juicy autumnal | 3 |
with just as much | 3 |
of any or all | 3 |
immense wind which strengthens | 3 |
not far from the | 3 |
the ground in all | 3 |
and that he shall | 3 |
of our new world | 3 |
the rustle and clank | 3 |
it is still the | 3 |
to cease your silence | 3 |
the din they chased | 3 |
where their priceless blood | 3 |
o banner and pennant | 3 |
submit to no models | 3 |
the certainties suitable to | 3 |
flapping up there in | 3 |
the bayonets bristling over | 3 |
or any number of | 3 |
in the moderate wind | 3 |
with light fingers i | 3 |
mind not the old | 3 |
sky beckoning to me | 3 |
and all in silence | 3 |
sometimes feel as if | 3 |
and the yield of | 3 |
rising in cries from | 3 |
let me hold new | 3 |
shrill you bugles blow | 3 |
the earth and the | 3 |
middle of the room | 3 |
the ranks of policemen | 3 |
witness of war and | 3 |
where they lie on | 3 |
of poems are the | 3 |
occasional scream or cry | 3 |
intense soul and glittering | 3 |
the wind which lashes | 3 |
peace i chanted peace | 3 |
sleepers must sleep in | 3 |
the drums strike more | 3 |
he have now with | 3 |
my fields of missouri | 3 |
food of the northern | 3 |
see ships sailing in | 3 |
and year upon year | 3 |
swell i saw on | 3 |
the lumber forests of | 3 |
final applause of science | 3 |
now you smile with | 3 |
and slept on their | 3 |
sick and dying men | 3 |
she can she hurries | 3 |
in the face and | 3 |
to our children all | 3 |
the singer attempt to | 3 |
a great many of | 3 |
i saw the black | 3 |
the dead out of | 3 |
and see not strips | 3 |
jubilant shouts of millions | 3 |
for the present alone | 3 |
together the solemn night | 3 |
land with breath of | 3 |
writing this in the | 3 |
keep a good heart | 3 |
in the orchards hang | 3 |
wounded after a battle | 3 |
endless and noisy chorus | 3 |
and all between those | 3 |
while i sat in | 3 |
you undulate like a | 3 |
by one great pitchy | 3 |
was the sea risen | 3 |
how you threw off | 3 |
and with wondrous clouds | 3 |
and halt by the | 3 |
see again the forms | 3 |
lashes its own body | 3 |
no sleepers must sleep | 3 |
and the small drums | 3 |
i hear the challenging | 3 |
three and a half | 3 |
yet pensive and masterful | 3 |
thou must indeed come | 3 |
now besides powder and | 3 |
it is necessary to | 3 |
the poor young men | 3 |
not money so precious | 3 |
bird on pinions free | 3 |
to do with in | 3 |
above them and all | 3 |
in the west the | 3 |
my city seen soldiers | 3 |
is something in the | 3 |
see my own soul | 3 |
a word does she | 3 |
banners and pennants aloft | 3 |
a little to the | 3 |
the battle brought in | 3 |
the eye of the | 3 |
near by the hospital | 3 |
the salesman leaving the | 3 |
the lights of a | 3 |
globe uprisen around me | 3 |
men and women of | 3 |
pieces in early youth | 3 |
of the pent fire | 3 |
this song to the | 3 |
i sit here in | 3 |
and my fields of | 3 |
thought not to destroy | 3 |
letter of the th | 3 |
the foremost ranks of | 3 |
the rivers great and | 3 |
flock of wild geese | 3 |
lightly strike on the | 3 |
of itself will it | 3 |
the day in a | 3 |
i could relish it | 3 |
democracy in the new | 3 |
the tray and pail | 3 |
north or south of | 3 |
to fly in the | 3 |
you know what it | 3 |
from deeps more unfathomable | 3 |
saw the black clouds | 3 |
wharves from the ships | 3 |
guns on their shoulders | 3 |
the law of the | 3 |
by my nighest name | 3 |
give me these phantoms | 3 |
like a tireless phantom | 3 |
sunken about the eyes | 3 |
old general at bay | 3 |
nor any nor all | 3 |
the channels of the | 3 |
to serve well the | 3 |
to an insisting friend | 3 |
that which unseen comes | 3 |
nor do i like | 3 |
spirit that ever lashes | 3 |
to come home and | 3 |
whelm that which asks | 3 |
hollow and harsh to | 3 |
now with his bride | 3 |
a zollverein between the | 3 |
cities i loved so | 3 |
there is something greater | 3 |
any nor all their | 3 |
reins abruptly down on | 3 |
and joy in my | 3 |
floats the wind over | 3 |
bringing up the rear | 3 |
case before the judge | 3 |
face is white as | 3 |
drum and fife were | 3 |
have rejected nothing you | 3 |
a large part of | 3 |
united states of america | 3 |
to the rows of | 3 |
the hurt and wounded | 3 |
in time be utterly | 3 |
the largest and most | 3 |
divider of daybreak you | 3 |
the face and dull | 3 |
ampler hunger to fill | 3 |
the bringing to bear | 3 |
the chord and twine | 3 |
with all his beams | 3 |
i see a great | 3 |
of the st new | 3 |
how you led to | 3 |
sudden and fast amid | 3 |
as from my tent | 3 |
if to my side | 3 |
the same as ever | 3 |
and with the young | 3 |
they will never to | 3 |
of my banner broad | 3 |
which the birds know | 3 |
the sullen remnant retreating | 3 |
of the new moon | 3 |
in the rush of | 3 |
are you indeed inexhaustible | 3 |
to him from the | 3 |
each in the ranks | 3 |
must he have now | 3 |
and all are well | 3 |
the deck my captain | 3 |
here in virginia this | 3 |
of the earth make | 3 |
lawyer rise in the | 3 |
by far the greatest | 3 |
i swear i think | 3 |
see buildings everywhere founded | 3 |
strongest you in the | 3 |
forth to the darkness | 3 |
field or gathering his | 3 |
i am not so | 3 |
a good time and | 3 |
on any less terms | 3 |
i speed forth to | 3 |
for hearken and see | 3 |
alms to every one | 3 |
spirit of gloomiest fears | 3 |
to the head of | 3 |
up by the heels | 3 |
face you soothe me | 3 |
as i saw you | 3 |
and the musing comrade | 3 |
the weeper or prayer | 3 |
i read very slowly | 3 |
miles from new york | 3 |
half a century ago | 3 |
the great steady wind | 3 |
the eastern sky up | 3 |
sleepers at night in | 3 |
of the trumpets and | 3 |
is the mother to | 3 |
bugles and the drums | 3 |
that can be done | 3 |
fresh air the path | 3 |
that swell i saw | 3 |
see far in the | 3 |
since the secession war | 3 |
to the house of | 3 |
now be witness again | 3 |
with a young man | 3 |
must have been in | 3 |
court to state his | 3 |
their clothes and knapsacks | 3 |
with his wife and | 3 |
which babbles in brooks | 3 |
two and a half | 3 |
serve well the guns | 3 |
there i would like | 3 |
o my soldiers twain | 3 |
the woods of the | 3 |
you the vehicles preparing | 3 |
more the food of | 3 |
the muskets of the | 3 |
more deadly and savage | 3 |
he said he would | 3 |
a good preparation you | 3 |
this is a pretty | 3 |
no brokers or speculators | 3 |
of a pennsylvania soldier | 3 |
thought of my whispering | 3 |
slender and jagged threads | 3 |
i know not whether | 3 |
that it is good | 3 |
to me with long | 3 |
of death under the | 3 |
what the earth and | 3 |
teeming and wealthy ohio | 3 |
to carry on the | 3 |
the yield of all | 3 |
then at night fitfully | 3 |
voice persuasive no more | 3 |
immense area of grain | 3 |
the earth does not | 3 |
fierce assault they fell | 3 |
the future of the | 3 |
ascended the towering rocks | 3 |
i bring thee a | 3 |
spirit of hours i | 3 |
more than one eyesight | 3 |
with your silvery face | 3 |
just lit by moving | 3 |
me with currents convulsive | 3 |
hither and yon through | 3 |