#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
Lo! The unbounded sea! On its breast a Ship starting, sp… Ship, carrying even her moonsails; The pennant is flying aloft, as sh… below, emulous waves press forward…
I am the teacher of athletes, He that by me spreads a wider brea… He most honors my style who learns… The boy I love, the same becomes… Wicked rather than virtuous out of…
Passing stranger! you do not know… You must be he I was seeking, or… I have somewhere surely lived a li… All is recall’d as we flit by each… You grew up with me, were a boy wi…
We two boys together clinging, One the other never leaving, Up and down the roads going—North… Power enjoying—elbows stretching—f… Arm’d and fearless—eating, drinkin…
Manhattan’s streets I saunter’d p… On Time, Space, Reality—on such… Prudence. The last explanation always remain… immortality.
HE is wisest who has the most cau… He only wins who goes far enough. ANY thing is as good as establish… lished that will produce it and co…
How sweet the silent backward trac… The wanderings as in dreams—the me… their loves, joys, persons, voyage…
Unseen buds, infinite, hidden well… Under the snow and ice, under the… Like babes in wombs, latent, folde… Billions of billions, and trillion… (On earth and in the sea—the unive…
One’s-Self I sing, a simple separ… Yet utter the word Democratic, th… Of physiology from top to toe I s… Not physiognomy alone nor brain al… The Female equally with the Male…
EARTH, round, rolling, compact—s… mals—all these are words to be sai… Watery, vegetable, sauroid advance… tions, lispings of the future, Behold! these are vast words to be…
O span of youth! ever-push’d elast… O manhood, balanced, florid and fu… My lovers suffocate me, Crowding my lips, thick in the por… Jostling me through streets and pu…
Of the terrible doubt of appearanc… Of the uncertainty after all—that… That may-be reliance and hope are… That may-be identity beyond the gr… May-be the things I perceive—the…
A SONG of the good green grass! A song no more of the city streets… A song of farms—a song of the soil… A song with the smell of sun-dried… handle the pitch-fork;
Earth, my likeness, Though you look so impassive, ampl… I now suspect that is not all; I now suspect there is something f… For an athlete is enamour’d of me,…
I was looking a long while for the… It is not in those paged fables in… It is no more in the legends than… It is in the present—it is this ea… It is in Democracy—in this Americ…