#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
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’…
From all the rest I single out yo… You are to die—let others tell you… I am exact and merciless, but I l… Softly I lay my right hand upon y… I do not argue, I bend my head cl…
O me, man of slack faith so long, Standing aloof, denying portions s… Only aware to-day of compact all-d… Discovering to-day there is no lie… grows as inevitably upon itself as…
The world below the brine, Forests at the bottom of the sea,… Sea-lettuce, vast lichens, strange… openings, and pink turf, Different colors, pale gray and gr…
A Woman waits for me—she contains… Yet all were lacking, if sex were… right man were lacking. Sex contains all, Bodies, Souls, meanings, proofs,…
NOT my enemies ever invade me—no… them I fear; But the lovers I recklessly love—… Lo! me, ever open and helpless, be… Utterly abject, grovelling on the…
(“The Seventeenth—the finest Regi… Through the soft evening air enwin… Rocks, woods, fort, cannon, pacing… In dulcet streams, in flutes’ and… Electric, pensive, turbulent, arti…
The commonplace I sing; How cheap is health! how cheap nob… Abstinence, no falsehood, no glutt… The open air I sing, freedom, tol… (Take here the mainest lesson—less…
A thousand perfect men and women a… Around each gathers a cluster of f… with offerings.
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,
These I singing in spring collect… (For who but I should understand… And who but I should be the poet… Collecting I traverse the garden… Now along the pond-side, now wadin…
No labor-saving machine, Nor discovery have I made; Nor will I be able to leave behin… hospital or library, Nor reminiscence of any deed of co…
This moment yearning and thoughtfu… It seems to me there are other men… thoughtful; It seems to me I can look over an… France, Spain—or far, far away, i…
O BITTER sprig! Confession spr… In the bouquet I give you place a… Proceeding no further till, humble… I give fair warning, once for all. I own that I have been sly, thiev…
I saw in Louisiana a live-oak gro… All alone stood it and the moss hu… Without any companion it grew ther… And its look, rude, unbending, lus… But I wonder’d how it could utter…