#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
Unfolded out of the folds of the w… always to come unfolded; Unfolded only out of the superbest… superbest man of the earth; Unfolded out of the friendliest wo…
Yet, yet, ye downcast hours, I kn… Weights of lead, how ye clog and c… Earth to a chamber of mourning tur… voice, Matter is conqueror—matter, triump…
A newer garden of creation, no pri… Dense, joyous, modern, populous mi… With iron interlaced, composite, t… By all the world contributed—freed… The crown and teeming paradise, so…
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…
To the garden, the world, anew asc… Potent mates, daughters, sons, pre… The love, the life of their bodies… Curious, here behold my resurrecti… The revolving cycles, in their wid…
Have you learn’d lessons only of t… tender with you, and stood aside f… Have you not learn’d great lessons… themselves against you? or who tre… the passage with you?
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.
All submit to them, where they sit… analysis, in the Soul; Not traditions—not the outer autho… the judges of outer authorities, a… They corroborate as they go, only…
To the leaven’d soil they trod cal… (Forth from my tent emerging for g… In the freshness the forenoon air,… again to peace restored, To the fiery fields emanative and…
AMERICA always! Always our own feuillage! Always Florida’s green peninsula!… less delta of Louisiana! Always t… of Alabama and Texas!
I believe a leaf of grass is no le… And the pismire is equally perfect… And the tree-toad is a chef-d’oeuv… And the running blackberry would a… And the narrowest hinge in my hand…
I sit and look out upon all the so… oppression and shame; I hear secret convulsive sobs from… themselves, remorseful after deeds… I see, in low life, the mother mis…
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,
As if a phantom caress’d me, I thought I was not alone, walkin… But the one I thought was with me… one I loved, that caress’d me, As I lean and look through the gl…
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…