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Walt Whitman - Ah Poverties, Wincings Sulky Retreats
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AH poverties, wincings, and sulky retreats!
Ah you foes that in conflict have overcome me!
(For what is my life, or any man`s life, but a conflict with foes—
         the old, the incessant war?)
You degradations—you tussle with passions and appetites;
You smarts from dissatisfied friendships, (ah wounds, the sharpest of
         all 
You toil of painful and choked articulations—you meannesses;
You shallow tongue-talks at tables, (my tongue the shallowest of
         any 
You broken resolutions, you racking angers, you smother`d ennuis;
Ah, think not you finally triumph—My real self has yet to come
         forth;
It shall yet march forth o`ermastering, till all lies beneath me;  


It shall yet stand up the soldier of unquestion`d victory.
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