#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
All submit to them, where they sit… analysis, in the Soul; Not traditions—not the outer autho… the judges of outer authorities, a… They corroborate as they go, only…
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…
Come said the Muse, Sing me a song no poet yet has cha… Sing me the universal. In this broad earth of ours, Amid the measureless grossness and…
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…
A song of the rolling earth, and o… Were you thinking that those were… curves, angles, dots? No, those are not the words, the s… and sea,
As they draw to a close, Of what underlies the precedent so… Of the seed I have sought to plan… Of joy, sweet joy, through many a… (For them, for them have I lived,…
Suddenly out of its stale and drow… Like lightning it le’pt forth half… Its feet upon the ashes and the ra… O hope and faith! O aching close of exiled patriots’…
What think you I take my pen in h… The battle-ship, perfect-model’d,… offing to-day under full sail? The splendors of the past day? Or… envelopes me?
Ah, whispering, something again, u… Where late this heated day thou en… Thou, laving, tempering all, cool-… Me, old, alone, sick, weak-down, m… Thou, nestling, folding close and…
Sounds of the winter too, Sunshine upon the mountains—many a… From cheery railroad train—from ne… The whispering air—even the mute c… Children’s and women’s tones—rhyth…
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.)
As consequent from store of summer… Or wayward rivulets in autumn flow… Or many a herb—lined brook’s retic… Or subterranean sea—rills making f… Songs of continued years I sing.
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:
The last sunbeam Lightly falls from the finish’d S… On the pavement here, and there be… Down a new-made double grave. Lo, the moon ascending,
City of orgies, walks and joys! City whom that I have lived and s… you illustrious, Not the pageants of you—not your s… repay me;