#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
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…
Walt Whitman, a kosmos, of Manhat… Turbulent, fleshy, sensual, eating… No sentimentalist, no stander abov… No more modest than immodest. Unscrew the locks from the doors!
The two old, simple problems ever… Close home, elusive, present, baff… By each successive age insoluble,… To ours to-day—and we pass on the…
All truths wait in all things, They neither hasten their own deli… They do not need the obstetric for… The insignificant is as big to me… (What is less or more than a touch…
I Celebrate myself, and sing myse… And what I assume you shall assum… For every atom belonging to me as… I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease observ…
First O songs for a prelude, Lightly strike on the stretch’d ty… How she led the rest to arms, how… How at once with lithe limbs unwai… (O superb! O Manhattan, my own, m…
After the sea-ship, after the whis… After the white-gray sails taut to… Below, a myriad myriad waves haste… Tending in ceaseless flow toward t… Waves of the ocean bubbling and gu…
The untold want, by life and land… Now, Voyager, sail thou forth, to…
I HEAR you have been asking for… sent the new race, our self-poised… Therefore I send you my poems, th… them what you wanted.
Look down fair moon and bathe this… Pour softly down night’s nimbus fl… On the dead on their backs with ar… Pour down your unstinted nimbus sa…
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…
From east and west across the hori… Two mighty masterful vessels saile… But we’ll make race a-time upon th… lively there! (Our joys of strife and derring-do…
To be in any form, what is that? (Round and round we go, all of us,… If nothing lay more develop’d the… Mine is no callous shell, I have instant conductors all over…
OF the visages of things—And of p… hells beneath; Of ugliness—To me there is just a… beauty—And now the ugliness of hum… me;
As I mused of these mighty days, and of peace return’d, and the dead that return no more, A Phantom, gigantic, superb, with stern visage, accosted me; Chant me the poem, it said, ...