#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
I have heard what the talkers were… beginning and the end But I do not talk of the beginnin… There was never any more inception… Nor any more youth or age than the…
On the beach at night alone, As the old mother sways her to and… As I watch the bright stars shini… universes and of the future. A vast similitude interlocks all,
The prairie-grass dividing—its spe… I demand of it the spiritual corre… Demand the most copious and close… Demand the blades to rise of words… Those of the open atmosphere, coar…
WOMEN sit, or move to and fro—so… some young; The young are beautiful—but the ol… young.
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;
Stepping with light feet, swiftly and noiselessly stepping and stopping, Bending with open eyes over the shut eyes of sleepers, Wandering and confused, lost to myself, ill-assorted, con...
Who goes there? hankering, gross,… How is it I extract strength from… What is a man anyhow? what am I?… All I mark as my own you shall of… Else it were time lost listening t…
Ages and ages returning at interva… Undestroy’d, wandering immortal, Lusty, phallic, with the potent or… I, chanter of Adamic songs, Through the new garden the West,…
How dare one say it? After the cycles, poems, singers,… Vaunted Ionia’s, India’s –Homer,… dotted roads, areas, The shining clusters and the Milk…
To the garden, the world, anew asc… Potent mates, daughters, sons, pre… The love, the life of their bodies… Curious, here behold my resurrecti… The revolving cycles, in their wid…
Vigil strange I kept on the field… When you my son and my comrade dro… One look I but gave which your de… never forget, One touch of your hand to mine O…
Dazzling and tremendous how quick… If I could not now and always sen… We also ascend dazzling and tremen… We found our own O my soul in the… My voice goes after what my eyes c…
Of persons arrived at high positio… and the like; (To me all that those persons have… except as it results to their bodi… So that often to me they appear ga…
Year that trembled and reel’d bene… Your summer wind was warm enough,… A thick gloom fell through the sun… Must I change my triumphant songs… Must I indeed learn to chant the…
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…