#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
Rise O days from your fathomless… Long for my soul hungering gymnast… Long I roam’d amid the woods of t… I travel’d the prairies over and s… Nevadas, I cross’d the plateaus,
I MET a Seer, Passing the hues and objects of th… The fields of art and learning, pl… To glean Eidólons. Put in thy chants, said he,
After the supper and talk—after th… As a friend from friends his final… Good-bye and Good-bye with emotio… (So hard for his hand to release t… No more for communion of sorrow an…
With antecedents, With my fathers and mothers and th… With all which, had it not been,… With Egypt, India, Phenicia, Gre… With the Kelt, the Scandinavian,…
Passage O soul to India! Eclaircise the myths Asiatic, the… Not you alone, proud truths of the… Nor you alone, ye facts of modern… But myths and fables of eld, Asia…
Darest thou now O soul, Walk out with me toward the unknow… Where neither ground is for the fe… No map there, nor guide, Nor voice sounding, nor touch of h…
Heave the anchor short! Raise main-sail and jib—steer fort… O little white-hull’d sloop, now s… (I will not call it our concluding… But outset and sure entrance to th…
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…
Chanting the square deific, out of… Out of the old and new, out of the… Solid, four-sided, (all the sides… Old Brahm I, and I Saturnius am; Not Time affects me—I am Time, o…
Not meagre, latent boughs alone,… talons,) But haply for some sunny day (who… summer—bursting forth, To verdant leaves, or sheltering s…
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…
Recorders ages hence! Come, I will take you down undern… tell you what to say of me; Publish my name and hang up my pic… lover,
Facing west, from California’s sh… Inquiring, tireless, seeking what… I, a child, very old, over waves,… land of migrations, look afar, Look off the shores of my Western…
Pensive and faltering, The words the Dead I write, For living are the Dead, (Haply the only living, only real, And I the apparition, I the spect…
BATHED in war’s perfume—delicat… O to hear you call the sailors and… a beautiful woman! O to hear the tramp, tramp, of a m… O the ships they arm with joy!