Favourite Poem
What am I, After All?
What am I, after all, but a child, pleas’d with the sound of my own name? repeating it over and over
I stand apart to hear—it never tires me.
To you, your name also;
Did you think there was nothing but two or three pronunciations in the sound of your name?
What am I, after all, but a child, pleas’d with the sound of my own name? repeating it over and over
I stand apart to hear—it never tires me.
To you, your name also;
Did you think there was nothing but two or three pronunciations in the sound of your name?
Walt Whitman (1819–1892)
I love this poem - but like any good work of art, i couldn't explain why.
Not sure whether or not this is copyright - i got it from a poster on the London Underground! If I need to acknowledge copyright or remove this please let me know.
Not sure whether or not this is copyright - i got it from a poster on the London Underground! If I need to acknowledge copyright or remove this please let me know.
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