#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
O living always, always dying! O the burials of me past and prese… O me while I stride ahead, materi… O me, what I was for years, now d… O to disengage myself from those c…
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…
The spotted hawk swoops by and acc… I too am not a bit tamed, I too a… I sound my barbaric yawp over the… The last scud of day holds back fo… It flings my likeness after the re…
While my wife at my side lies slum… And my head on the pillow rests at… And through the stillness, through… of my infant, There in the room as I wake from…
I see in you the estuary that enla… in the great sea.
To-day a rude brief recitative, Of ships sailing the seas, each wi… Of unnamed heroes in the ships—of… as the eye can reach, Of dashing spray, and the winds pi…
Whoever you are, I fear you are w… I fear these supposed realities ar… Even now your features, joys, spee… Your true soul and body appear bef… They stand forth out of affairs, o…
As I lay with my head in your lap… The confession I made I resume—wh… the open air I resume: I know I am restless, and make ot… I know my words are weapons, full…
Nothing is ever really lost, or ca… No birth, identity, form—no object… Nor life, nor force, nor any visib… Appearance must not foil, nor shif… Ample are time and space—ample the…
Why, who makes much of a miracle? As to me I know of nothing else b… Whether I walk the streets of Man… Or dart my sight over the roofs of… Or wade with naked feet along the…
I see the sleeping babe, nestling… mother; The sleeping mother and babe—hush’… long and long.
O take my hand, Walt Whitman! Such gliding wonders! such sights… Such join’d unended links, each ho… Each answering all—each sharing th… What widens within you, Walt Whit…
1 AS nearing departure, As the time draws nigh, glooming,… A dread beyond, of I know not wha… 2 I shall go forth, I shall traverse The States—but…
Apple orchards, the trees all cove… Wheat fields carpeted far and near… The eternal, exhaustless freshness… The yellow, golden, transparent ha… The aspiring lilac bushes with pro…
Joy! shipmate—joy! (Pleas’d to my Soul at death I cr… Our life is closed—our life begins… The long, long anchorage we leave, The ship is clear at last—she leap…