I Heard You, Solemn-sweep Pipes Of The Organ

Walt Whitman

   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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