PRIMEVAL my love for the woman I love, 
O bride! O wife! more resistless, more enduring than I can tell, the thought of you! 
Then separate, as disembodied, the purest born, 
The 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.

Added: Feb 7 2004 | Viewed: 4138 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Walt Whitman
Poem: 10. Primeval my Love for the Woman I Love.
Volume: Leaves of Grass
- 22. Gathered Leaves
Year: Published/Written in 1900
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