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Walt Whitman · Leaves of Grass

Poem 77 of 382 · Calamus

Fast Anchor’d Eternal O Love!

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Fast-anchor’d eternal O love! O woman I love! O bride! O wife! more resistless than I can tell, the thought of you! Then separate, as disembodied or another born, Ethereal, the last athletic reality, my consolation, I ascend, I float in the regions of your love O man, O sharer of my roving life.

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