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Whitman, Walt, 1819-1892

"Complete Prose Works Specimen Days and Collect, November Boughs and Goodbye My Fancy"


The day was now advanced, though the heat pour'd down with a strength
little less oppressive than at noon. Frank had accomplish'd the
greater part of his journey; he was within two miles of his home. The
road here led over a high, tiresome hill, and he determined to stop on
the top of it and rest himself, as well as give the animal he rode a
few minutes' breath. How well he knew the place! And that mighty oak,
standing just outside the fence on the very summit of the hill, often
had he reposed under its shade. It would be pleasant for a few minutes
to stretch his limbs there again as of old, he thought to himself;
and he dismounted from the saddle and led Black Nell under the tree.
Mindful of the comfort of his favorite, he took from his little
bundle, which he had strapped behind him on the mare's back, a piece
of strong cord, four or five yards in length, which he tied to the
bridle, and wound and tied the other end, for security, over his own
wrist; then throwing himself at full length upon the ground, Black
Nell was at liberty to graze around him, without danger of straying
away.
It was a calm scene, and a pleasant. There was no rude sound--hardly
even a chirping insect--to break the sleepy silence of the place. The
atmosphere had a dim, hazy cast, and was impregnated with overpowering
heat. The young man lay there minute after minute, as time glided away
unnoticed; for he was very tired, and his repose was sweet to him.
Occasionally he raised himself and cast a listless look at the distant
landscape, veil'd as it was by the slight mist.


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