#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
Nothing is ever really lost, or ca… No birth, identity, form—no object… Nor life, nor force, nor any visib… Appearance must not foil, nor shif… Ample are time and space—ample the…
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…
Vigil strange I kept on the field… When you my son and my comrade dro… One look I but gave which your de… never forget, One touch of your hand to mine O…
Far hence amid an isle of wondrous… Crouching over a grave an ancient… Once a queen, now lean and tatter’… Her old white hair drooping dishev… At her feet fallen an unused royal…
I am of old and young, of the fool… Regardless of others, ever regardf… Maternal as well as paternal, a ch… Stuff’d with the stuff that is coa… One of the Nation of many nations…
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…
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…
To think of time—of all that retro… To think of to-day, and the ages c… Have you guess’d you yourself woul… Have you dreaded these earth-beetl… Have you fear’d the future would b…
From far Dakota’s canyons, Lands of the wild ravine, the dusk… Haply to-day a mournful wall, hapl… The battle-bulletin, The Indian ambuscade, the craft,…
May-be one is now reading this who… life, Or may-be a stranger is reading th… Or may-be one who meets all my gra… derision,
Good-bye my Fancy! Farewell dear mate, dear love! I’m going away, I know not where, Or to what fortune, or whether I… So Good-bye my Fancy.
America always! Always our own feuillage! Always Florida’s green peninsula!… Louisiana! Always the cotton—fiel… Always California’s golden hills…
The wild gander leads his flock th… Ya-honk he says, and sounds it dow… The pert may suppose it meaningles… Find its purpose and place up ther… The sharp-hoof’d moose of the nort…
Passing stranger! you do not know… You must be he I was seeking, or… I have somewhere surely lived a li… All is recall’d as we flit by each… You grew up with me, were a boy wi…
The noble sire fallen on evil days… I saw with hand uplifted, menacing… (Memories of old in abeyance, love… The insane knife toward the Mothe… The noble son on sinewy feet advan…