THAT shadow, my likeness, that goes to and fro, seeking a livelihood, chattering,
chaffering;
How often I find myself standing and looking at it where it flits;
How often I question and doubt whether that is really me;
—But in these, and among my lovers, and caroling my songs,
O I never doubt whether that is really me. 5

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2 Comments

  1. Double T says:

    I comment Whitman on his fine works.

  2. Merissa says:

    this was a great poem

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