#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
All you are doing and saying is to… You have not learn’d of Nature—of… learn’d the great amplitude, recti… You have not seen that only such a… And that what is less than they mu…
Had I the choice to tally greates… To limn their portraits, stately,… Homer with all his wars and warrio… Or Shakespeare’s woe—entangled Ha… Meter or wit the best, or choice c…
Not youth pertains to me, Nor delicatesse, I cannot beguile… Awkward in the parlor, neither a d… In the learn’d coterie sitting con… to me,
By the city dead-house by the gate… As idly sauntering wending my way… I curious pause, for lo, an outcas… Her corpse they deposit unclaim’d,… The divine woman, her body, I see…
Good-bye my fancy—(I had a word t… But ’tis not quite the time—The b… Is when its proper place arrives—a… I keep mine till the last.)
TWO Rivulets side by side, Two blended, parallel, strolling t… Companions, travelers, gossiping a… For the Eternal Ocean bound, These ripples, passing surges, str…
You felons on trial in courts, You convicts in prison-cells, you… handcuff’d with iron, Who am I too that I am not on tri… Me ruthless and devilish as any, t…
A line in long array where they wi… They take a serpentine course, the… musical clank, Behold the silvery river, in it th… Behold the brown-faced men, each g…
The negro holds firmly the reins o… The negro that drives the long dra… His blue shirt exposes his ample n… His glance is calm and commanding,… The sun falls on his crispy hair a…
Enough! enough! enough! Somehow I have been stunn’d. Stan… Give me a little time beyond my cu… I discover myself on the verge of… That I could forget the mockers a…
And as to you Death, and you bitt… To his work without flinching the… I see the elder-hand pressing rece… I recline by the sills of the exqu… And mark the outlet, and mark the…
I believe a leaf of grass is no le… And the pismire is equally perfect… And the tree-toad is a chef-d’oeuv… And the running blackberry would a… And the narrowest hinge in my hand…
Flood-tide below me! I see you fa… Clouds of the west—sun there half… Crowds of men and women attired in… On the ferry-boats the hundreds an… And you that shall cross from shor…
As I sit writing here, sick and g… Not my least burden is that dulnes… Ungracious glooms, aches, lethargy… May filter in my dally songs.
In some unused lagoon, some namele… On sluggish, lonesome waters, anch… An old, dismasted, gray and batter… After free voyages to all the seas… tight,