#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
From far Dakota’s canyons, Lands of the wild ravine, the dusk… Haply to-day a mournful wall, hapl… The battle-bulletin, The Indian ambuscade, the craft,…
Simple and fresh and fair from win… As if no artifice of fashion, busi… Forth from its sunny nook of shelt… the dawn, The spring’s first dandelion shows…
Scented herbage of my breast, Leaves from you I yield, I write,… Tomb-leaves, body-leaves, growing… Perennial roots, tall leaves—O th… delicate leaves,
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…
All you are doing and saying is to… You have not learn’d of Nature—of… learn’d the great amplitude, recti… You have not seen that only such a… And that what is less than they mu…
(Written in Platte Canyon, Color… Spirit that form’d this scene, These tumbled rock-piles grim and… These reckless heaven-ambitious pe… These gorges, turbulent-clear stre…
On the beach at night alone, As the old mother sways her to and… As I watch the bright stars shini… universes and of the future. A vast similitude interlocks all,
BATHED in war’s perfume—delicat… (Should the days needing armies, n… O to hear you call the sailors and… beautiful woman! O to hear the tramp, tramp, of a m…
Tears! tears! tears! In the night, in solitude, tears; On the white shore dripping, dripp… Tears—not a star shining—all dark… Moist tears from the eyes of a muf…
The friendly and flowing savage, w… Is he waiting for civilization, or… Is he some Southwesterner rais’d… Is he from the Mississippi countr… The mountains? prairie-life, bush-…
I THOUGHT I was not alone, wal… But the one I thought was with me… As I lean and look through the gl… disappeared, And those appear that perplex me.
THINK of the Soul; I swear to you that body of yours… somehow to live in other spheres; I do not know how, but I know it… Think of loving and being loved;
The place where a great city stand… Nor the place of ceaseless salutes… Nor the place of the tallest and c… Nor the place of the best librarie… Nor the place of the most numerous…
Of that blithe throat of thine fro… I’ll mind the lesson, solitary bir… E’en the profoundest chill, as now… Old age land-lock’d within its win… These snowy hairs, my feeble arm,…
There was a child went forth every… And the first object he look’d upo… And that object became part of him… Or for many years or stretching cy… The early lilacs became part of th…