#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
A mask, a perpetual natural disgui… Concealing her face, concealing he… Changes and transformations every… Falling upon her even when she sle…
Out of the rolling ocean the crowd… Whispering, I love you, before lo… I have travell’d a long way merely… For I could not die till I once l… For I fear’d I might afterward lo…
As I watch’d the ploughman plough… Or the sower sowing in the fields,… I saw there too, O life and death… (Life, life is the tillage, and D…
Weapon shapely, naked, wan, Head from the mother’s bowels draw… Wooded flesh and metal bone, limb… Gray-blue leaf by red-heat grown,… Resting the grass amid and upon,
To-day, from each and all, a breat… To memory of Him—to birth of Him.
ll, and here again he lies.A sight… As from my tent I emerge so early… As slow I walk in the cool fresh… Three forms I see on stretchers l… Over each the blanket spread, ampl…
What am I, after all, but a child… name? repeating it over and over; I stand apart to hear—it never tir… To you, your name also; Did you think there was nothing bu…
ONE sweeps by, attended by an imm… All emblematic of peace—not a sold… One sweeps by, old, with black eye… He has the simple magnificence of… His face strikes as with flashes o…
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…
In cabin’d ships at sea, The boundless blue on every side e… With whistling winds and music of… Or some lone bark buoy’d on the de… Where joyous full of faith, spread…
Where the city’s ceaseless crowd m… Withdrawn I join a group of child… By the curb toward the edge of the… A knife-grinder works at his wheel… Bending over he carefully holds it…
First O songs for a prelude, Lightly strike on the stretch’d ty… How she led the rest to arms, how… How at once with lithe limbs unwai… (O superb! O Manhattan, my own, m…
Thanks in old age—thanks ere I go… For health, the midday sun, the im… For precious ever-lingering memori… father—you, brothers, sisters, fri… For all my days—not those of peace…
As down the stage again, With Spanish hat and plumes, and… Back from the fading lessons of th… How much from thee! the revelation… (So firm—so liquid-soft—again that…
With husky-haughty lips, O sea! Where day and night I wend thy su… Imaging to my sense thy varied str… (I see and plainly list thy talk a… Thy troops of white-maned racers r…