#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
To get betimes in Boston town I r… Here’s a good place at the corner,… Clear the way there Jonathan! Way for the President’s marshal—w… Way for the Federal foot and drag…
A batter’d, wreck’d old man, Thrown on this savage shore, far,… Pent by the sea and dark rebelliou… Sore, stiff with many toils, sicke… I take my way along the island’s e…
Endless unfolding of words of ages… And mine a word of the modern, the… A word of the faith that never bal… Here or henceforward it is all the… It alone is without flaw, it alone…
An old man bending I come among n… Years looking backward resuming in… Come tell us old man, as from youn… (Arous’d and angry, I’d thought t… But soon my fingers fail’d me, my…
Thou who hast slept all night upon… Waking renew’d on thy prodigious p… (Burst the wild storm? above it th… And rested on the sky, thy slave t… Now a blue point, far, far in heav…
Give me the splendid silent sun wi… Give me autumnal fruit ripe and re… Give me a field where the unmow’d… Give me an arbor, give me the trel… Give me fresh corn and wheat, give…
Behold this swarthy face—these gra… This beard—the white wool, unclipt… My brown hands, and the silent man… Yet comes one, a Manhattanese, an… on the lips with robust love,
Always our old feuillage! Always Florida’s green peninsula—… Louisiana—always the cotton-fields… Always California’s golden hills… of New Mexico—always soft-breath’…
Not to exclude or demarcate, or pi… masses (even to expose them,) But add, fuse, complete, extend—an… To span vast realms of space and t… Evolution—the cumulative—growths a…
Pensive, on her dead gazing, I he… Desperate, on the torn bodies, on… battle-fields gazing; As she call’d to her earth with mo… stalk’d:
Shot gold, maroon and violet, dazz… The earth’s whole amplitude and N… for once to colors; The light, the general air possess… No limit, confine—not the Western…
The wild gander leads his flock th… Ya-honk he says, and sounds it dow… The pert may suppose it meaningles… Find its purpose and place up ther… The sharp-hoof’d moose of the nort…
I heard that you ask’d for somethi… And to define America, her athlet… Therefore I send you my poems tha… wanted.
OR, from that Sea of Time, Spray, blown by the wind—a double… (O little shells, so curious-convo… Yet will you not, to the tympans o… Murmurs and echoes still bring up—…
Down on the ancient wharf, the san… He shipp’d as green-hand boy, and… vehement notion;) Since, twenty years and more have… While he the globe was circling ro…