#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
Turn O Libertad, for the war is o… From it and all henceforth expandi… sweeping the world, Turn from lands retrospective reco… From the singers that sing the tra…
Greater than memory of Achilles o… More, more by far to thee than tom… Those cart loads of old charnel as… Once living men—once resolute cour… The stepping stones to thee to-day…
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…
Joy! shipmate—joy! (Pleas’d to my Soul at death I cr… Our life is closed—our life begins… The long, long anchorage we leave, The ship is clear at last—she leap…
WHAT General has a good army in… He happy in himself, or she happy…
Out of the cradle endlessly rockin… Out of the mocking-bird’s throat,… Out of the Ninth-month midnight, Over the sterile sands and the fie… bed wander’d alone, bareheaded, ba…
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…
Beat! beat! drums!—blow! bugles! b… Through the windows—through doors—… Into the solemn church, and scatte… Into the school where the scholar… Leave not the bridegroom quiet—no…
I saw old General at bay, (Old as he was, his gray eyes yet… His small force was now completely… He call’d for volunteers to run th… I saw a hundred and more step fort…
Years of the modern! years of the… Your horizon rises—I see it parti… I see not America only—I see not… nations preparing; I see tremendous entrances and exi…
As I watch’d the ploughman plough… Or the sower sowing in the fields,… I saw there too, O life and death… (Life, life is the tillage, and D…
Who are you dusky woman, so ancien… With your woolly-white and turban’… Why rising by the roadside here, d… (’Tis while our army lines Caroli… Forth from thy hovel door thou Et…
I SAY whatever tastes sweet to t… —That is finally right. I SAY the human shape or face is… never be made ridiculous; I say for ornaments nothing outré…
And whence and why come you? We know not whence, (was the answe… We only know that we drift here wi… That we linger’d and lagg’d—but we… To make the passing shower’s concl…
Spontaneous me, Nature, The loving day, the mounting sun,… The arm of my friend hanging idly… The hill-side whiten’d with blosso… The same, late in autumn—the hues…