#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
Gliding o’er all, through all, Through Nature, Time, and Space, As a ship on the waters advancing, The voyage of the soul—not life al… Death, many deaths I’ll sing.
On a flat road runs the well-train… He is lean and sinewy with muscula… He is thinly clothed, he leans for… With lightly closed fists and arms…
WHILE my wife at my side lies sl… are over long, And my head on the pillow rests at… tic midnight passes, And through the stillness, through…
Apple orchards, the trees all cove… Wheat fields carpeted far and near… The eternal, exhaustless freshness… The yellow, golden, transparent ha… The aspiring lilac bushes with pro…
Poets to come! orators, singers, m… Not to-day is to justify me, and a… But you, a new brood, native, athl… Arouse! Arouse—for you must justi… I myself but write one or two indi…
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…
Turn O Libertad, for the war is o… From it and all henceforth expandi… sweeping the world, Turn from lands retrospective reco… From the singers that sing the tra…
O hymen! O hymenee! why do you ta… O why sting me for a swift moment… Why can you not continue? O why d… Is it because if you continued bey… soon certainly kill me?
Ashes of soldiers South or North, As I muse retrospective murmuring… The war resumes, again to my sense… And again the advance of the armie… Noiseless as mists and vapors,
All you are doing and saying is to… You have not learn’d of Nature—of… learn’d the great amplitude, recti… You have not seen that only such a… And that what is less than they mu…
Hold it up sternly—see this it sen… Outside fair costume, within ashes… No more a flashing eye, no more a… Now some slave’s eye, voice, hands… A drunkard’s breath, unwholesome e…
Shut not your doors to me proud li… For that which was lacking on all… most, I bring, Forth from the war emerging, a boo… The words of my book nothing, the…
Facing west, from California’s sh… Inquiring, tireless, seeking what… I, a child, very old, over waves,… land of migrations, look afar, Look off the shores of my Western…
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…
BATHED in war’s perfume—delicat… O to hear you call the sailors and… a beautiful woman! O to hear the tramp, tramp, of a m… O the ships they arm with joy!