"... in the distant woods or fields, in unpretending
sprout-lands or pastures tracked by rabbits, even in a bleak and, to most,
cheerless day, like this, when a villager would be thinking of his inn,
I come to myself, I once more feel myself grandly related, and that cold
and solitude are friends of mine. I suppose that this value, in my case,
is equivalent to what others get by churchgoing and prayer.
The Walt Whitman Archive - 1 views
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