Leaves of Grass

I heard you solemn-sweet pipes of the organ as last Sunday morn I pass’d the church, Winds of autumn, as I walk’d the woods at dusk I heard your long- stretch’d sighs up above so mournful, I heard the perfect Italian tenor singing at the opera, I heard the soprano in the midst of the quartet singing; Heart of my love! you too I heard murmuring low through one of the wrists around my head, Heard the pulse of you when all was still ringing little bells last night under my ear.