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Home  »  Leaves of Grass  »  296. O Bitter Sprig! Confession Sprig!

Walt Whitman (1819–1892). Leaves of Grass. 1900.

296. O Bitter Sprig! Confession Sprig!

O BITTER sprig! Confession sprig!

In the bouquet I give you place also—I bind you in,

Proceeding no further till, humbled publicly,

I give fair warning, once for all.

I own that I have been sly, thievish, mean, a prevaricator, greedy, derelict,

And I own that I remain so yet.

What foul thought but I think it—or have in me the stuff out of which it is thought?

What in darkness in bed at night, alone or with a companion?