#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
As consequent from store of summer… Or wayward rivulets in autumn flow… Or many a herb—lined brook’s retic… Or subterranean sea—rills making f… Songs of continued years I sing.
Native moments—when you come upon… Give me now libidinous joys only, Give me the drench of my passions,… To-day I go consort with Nature’s… I am for those who believe in loos…
From pent-up, aching rivers; From that of myself, without which… From what I am determin’d to make… among men; From my own voice resonant—singing…
Soon shall the winter’s foil be he… Soon shall these icy ligatures unb… And air, soil, wave, suffused shal… From these dead clods and chills a… Thine eyes, ears—all thy best attr…
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…
Still though the one I sing, (One, yet of contradictions made,)… I leave in him revolt, (O latent… indispensable fire!)
ONE song, America, before I go, I’d sing, o’er all the rest, with… For thee—the Future. I’d sow a seed for thee of endless… I’d fashion thy Ensemble, includi…
Of the terrible doubt of appearanc… Of the uncertainty after all—that… That may-be reliance and hope are… That may-be identity beyond the gr… May-be the things I perceive—the…
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…
I believe in you my soul, the othe… And you must not be abased to the… Loafe with me on the grass, loose… Not words, not music or rhyme I w… Only the lull I like, the hum of…
Word over all, beautiful as the sk… Beautiful that war and all its dee… That the hands of the sisters Dea… again, and ever again, this solid… For my enemy is dead, a man divine…
Out from behind this bending rough… These lights and shades, this dram… This common curtain of the face co… you, in each for each, (Tragedies, sorrows, laughter, tea…
PRIMEVAL my love for the woman… O bride! O wife! more resistless,… thought of you! Then separate, as disembodied, the… The ethereal, the last athletic re…
Now I will do nothing but listen, To accrue what I hear into this s… I hear bravuras of birds, bustle o… I hear the sound I love, the soun… I hear all sounds running together…
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…