#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
A noiseless patient spider, I mark’d where on a little promont… Mark’d how to explore the vacant v… It launch’d forth filament, filame… Ever unreeling them, ever tireless…
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…
How they are provided for upon the… How they inure to themselves as mu… appears their age, How people respond to them, yet kn… How there is something relentless…
When his hour for death had come, He slowly rais’d himself from the… Drew on his war-dress, shirt, legg… waist, Call’d for vermilion paint (his lo…
I have said that the soul is not m… And I have said that the body is… And nothing, not God, is greater… And whoever walks a furlong withou… And I or you pocketless of a dime…
Year that trembled and reel’d bene… Your summer wind was warm enough,… A thick gloom fell through the sun… Must I change my triumphant songs… Must I indeed learn to chant the…
Sea-beauty! stretch’d and basking! One side thy inland ocean laving,… steamers, sails, And one the Atlantic’s wind cares… dark-gliding in the distance.
For him I sing, I raise the present on the past, (As some perennial tree out of its… With time and space I him dilate… To make himself by them the law un…
What may we chant, O thou within… What tablets, outlines, hang for t… The life thou lived’st we know not… But that thou walk’dst thy years i… Nor heroism thine, nor war, nor gl…
You lingering sparse leaves of me… And I some well-shorn tree of fie… You tokens diminute and lorn—(not… clover-bloom—no grain of August no… You pallid banner-staves—you penna…
Far back, related on my mother’s s… Old Salt Kossabone, I’ll tell yo… (Had been a sailor all his life—wa… grandchild, Jenny; House on a hill, with view of bay…
The touch of flame—the illuminatin… O’er city, passion, sea—o’er prair… The airy, different, changing hues… Objects and groups, bearings, face… The calmer sight—the golden settin…
By the city dead-house by the gate… As idly sauntering wending my way… I curious pause, for lo, an outcas… Her corpse they deposit unclaim’d,… The divine woman, her body, I see…
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…
To The States, or any one of them… Resist much, obey little; Once unquestioning obedience, once… Once fully enslaved, no nation, st…