#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
I am he that aches with amorous lo… Does the earth gravitate? Does no… matter? So the Body of me, to all I meet,…
I heard you solemn-sweet pipes of… pass’d the church, Winds of autumn, as I walk’d the… stretch’d sighs up above so mournf… I heard the perfect Italian tenor…
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…
A voice from Death, solemn and st… With sudden, indescribable blow—to… thousands slain, The vaunted work of thrift, goods,… Dash’d pell-mell by the blow—yet u…
THERE are who teach only the swe… But I teach lessons of war and de… That they readily meet invasions,…
HOURS continuing long, sore and… Hours of the dusk, when I withdra… spot, seating myself, leaning my f… Hours sleepless, deep in the night… the country roads, or through the…
Passage O soul to India! Eclaircise the myths Asiatic, the… Not you alone, proud truths of the… Nor you alone, ye facts of modern… But myths and fables of eld, Asia…
I know I have the best of time an… I tramp a perpetual journey, (come… My signs are a rain-proof coat, go… No friend of mine takes his ease i… I have no chair, no church, no phi…
A carol closing sixty-nine—a resum… My lines in joy and hope continuin… Of ye, O God, Life, Nature, Fre… Of you, my Land—your rivers, prai… Your aggregate retain’d entire—Of…
I see the sleeping babe, nestling… mother; The sleeping mother and babe—hush’… long and long.
Earth, round, rolling, compact—sun… words to be said; Watery, vegetable, sauroid advance… of the future, Behold! these are vast words to be…
Oh me! Oh life! of the questions… Of the endless trains of the faith… Of myself forever reproaching myse… and who more faithless?) Of eyes that vainly crave the ligh…
A song of the rolling earth, and o… Were you thinking that those were… curves, angles, dots? No, those are not the words, the s… and sea,
Nations ten thousand years before… thousand years before these States… Garner’d clusters of ages that men… and travel’d their course and pass… What vast-built cities, what order…
Quicksand years that whirl me I k… Your schemes, politics, fail, line… Only the theme I sing, the great… One’s-self must never give way—tha… all is sure,