#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
Down on the ancient wharf, the san… He shipp’d as green-hand boy, and… vehement notion;) Since, twenty years and more have… While he the globe was circling ro…
Who includes diversity and is Nat… Who is the amplitude of the earth,… the earth, and the great charity o… Who has not look’d forth from the… whose brain held audience with mes…
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…
A SONG of the good green grass! A song no more of the city streets… A song of farms—a song of the soil… A song with the smell of sun-dried… handle the pitch-fork;
O, Death! a black and pierceless… Hangs round thee, and the future s… No eye may see, no mind may grasp That mystery of fate. This braid, which now alternate th…
Roots and leaves themselves alone… Scents brought to men and women fr… pond-side, Breast-sorrel and pinks of love—fi… than vines,
Had I the choice to tally greates… To limn their portraits, stately,… Homer with all his wars and warrio… Or Shakespeare’s woe—entangled Ha… Meter or wit the best, or choice c…
When I peruse the conquer’d fame… mighty generals, I do not envy the… Nor the President in his Presiden… But when I hear of the brotherhoo… How through life, through dangers,…
That shadow my likeness that goes… chattering, chaffering, How often I find myself standing… How often I question and doubt wh… But among my lovers and caroling t…
A Glimpse, through an interstice… Of a crowd of workmen and drivers… late of a winter night—And I unre… Of a youth who loves me, and whom… seating himself near, that he may…
I hear America singing, the varie… Those of mechanics, each one singi… The carpenter singing his as he me… The mason singing his as he makes… The boatman singing what belongs t…
Stepping with light feet, swiftly and noiselessly stepping and stopping, Bending with open eyes over the shut eyes of sleepers, Wandering and confused, lost to myself, ill-assorted, con...
On my northwest coast in the midst… fishermen’s group stands watching; Out on the lake, expanding before… spearing salmon; The canoe, a dim and shadowy thing…
Not heat flames up and consumes, Not sea-waves hurry in and out, Not the air, delicious and dry, th… lightly along white down-balls of… Wafted, sailing gracefully, to dro…
To-day a rude brief recitative, Of ships sailing the seas, each wi… Of unnamed heroes in the ships—of… as the eye can reach, Of dashing spray, and the winds pi…