With all his follies, insolence, and indecency, no modern poet that we know of has presented finer descriptive passages than Mr. Walt Whitman. ... The following rhapsody will illustrate his fulness of epithet: I am he that walks with the tender and growing night I call the earth and sea, ... beach your crooked inviting fingers, I believe you refuse to go back without feeling of me; We must have a turn together .
|Title||:||Critical essays on Walt Whitman|
|Author||:||James Leslie Woodress|
|Publisher||:||G K Hall - 1983|