#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
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…
These I singing in spring collect… (For who but I should understand… And who but I should be the poet… Collecting I traverse the garden… Now along the pond-side, now wadin…
In midnight sleep of many a face o… Of the look at first of the mortal… Of the dead on their backs with ar… I dream. Of scenes of Nature, fields and m…
O MATER! O fils! O brood continental! O flowers of the prairies! O space boundless! O hum of might… O you teeming cities! O so invinc…
When the full-grown poet came, Out spake pleased Nature (the rou… of day and night,) saying, He is m… But out spake too the Soul of man… Nay he is mine alone;
Endless unfolding of words of ages… And mine a word of the modern, the… A word of the faith that never bal… Here or henceforward it is all the… It alone is without flaw, it alone…
The little one sleeps in its cradl… I lift the gauze and look a long t… The youngster and the red-faced gi… I peeringly view them from the top… The suicide sprawls on the bloody…
Not the pilot has charged himself… beaten back and many times baffled… Not the pathfinder penetrating inl… By deserts parch’d, snows chill’d,… destination,
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…
Approaching, nearing, curious, Thou dim, uncertain spectre—bringe… Strength, weakness, blindness, mor… Or placid skies and sun? Wilt sti… Or haply cut me short for good? O…
Sea-beauty! stretch’d and basking! One side thy inland ocean laving,… steamers, sails, And one the Atlantic’s wind cares… dark-gliding in the distance.
Starting from fish-shape Paumanok… Well-begotten, and rais’d by a per… After roaming many lands, lover of… Dweller in Mannahatta my city, or… Or a soldier camp’d or carrying my…
WOMEN sit, or move to and fro—so… some young; The young are beautiful—but the ol… young.
When I read the book, the biograp… And is this then (said I) what th… And so will some one when I am de… (As if any man really knew aught o… Why even I myself I often think k…
On the beach at night, Stands a child with her father, Watching the east, the autumn sky. Up through the darkness, While ravening clouds, the burial…