#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
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…
The big doors of the country barn… The dried grass of the harvest-tim… The clear light plays on the brown… The armfuls are pack’d to the sagg… I am there, I help, I came stretc…
If I should need to name, O West… and show, ’Twould not be you, Niagara—nor y… huge rifts of canyons, Colorado, Nor you, Yosemite—nor Yellowstone…
TO ORATISTS—to male or female… Vocalism, measure, concentration,… to use words. Are you full-lung’d and limber-lip… practice? from physique?
SHUT not your doors to me, proud… For that which was lacking among y… most, I bring; A book I have made for your dear… And for you, O soul of man, and y…
By the bivouac’s fitful flame, A procession winding around me, so… first I note, The tents of the sleeping army, th… The darkness lit by spots of kindl…
O span of youth! ever-push’d elast… O manhood, balanced, florid and fu… My lovers suffocate me, Crowding my lips, thick in the por… Jostling me through streets and pu…
Unseen buds, infinite, hidden well… Under the snow and ice, under the… Like babes in wombs, latent, folde… Billions of billions, and trillion… (On earth and in the sea—the unive…
In a far-away northern county in t… Lives my farmer friend, the theme… There they bring him the three-yea… break them, He will take the wildest steer in…
Not meagre, latent boughs alone,… talons,) But haply for some sunny day (who… summer—bursting forth, To verdant leaves, or sheltering s…
Simple and fresh and fair from win… As if no artifice of fashion, busi… Forth from its sunny nook of shelt… the dawn, The spring’s first dandelion shows…
Of Public Opinion; Of a calm and cool fiat, sooner or… passive! How certain and final!) Of the President with pale face a… himself, What will the people say…
Now lift me close to your face til… What you are holding is in reality… of a book; It is a man, flush’d and full-bloo… —We must separate awhile—Here! ta…
You sea! I resign myself to you a… I behold from the beach your crook… I believe you refuse to go back wi… We must have a turn together, I u… Cushion me soft, rock me in billow…
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;