#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
Something startles me where I tho… I withdraw from the still woods I… I will not go now on the pastures… I will not strip the clothes from… I will not touch my flesh to the e…
NOT my enemies ever invade me—no… them I fear; But the lovers I recklessly love—… Lo! me, ever open and helpless, be… Utterly abject, grovelling on the…
Wild, wild the storm, and the sea… Steady the roar of the gale, with… Shouts of demoniac laughter fitful… Waves, air, midnight, their savage… Out in the shadows there milk-whit…
A song of the rolling earth, and o… Were you thinking that those were… curves, angles, dots? No, those are not the words, the s… and sea,
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,
SO far, and so far, and on toward… Singing what is sung in this book,… me; But whether I continue beyond thi… Whether I shall dart forth the tr…
Stepping with light feet, swiftly and noiselessly stepping and stopping, Bending with open eyes over the shut eyes of sleepers, Wandering and confused, lost to myself, ill-assorted, con...
Sounds of the winter too, Sunshine upon the mountains—many a… From cheery railroad train—from ne… The whispering air—even the mute c… Children’s and women’s tones—rhyth…
Steaming the northern rapids—(an o… A sudden memory-flash comes back,… Here waiting for the sunrise, gazi… Again ’tis just at morning—a heavy… Again the trembling, laboring vess…
Over the Western sea hither from… Courteous, the swart-cheek’d two-s… Leaning back in their open barouch… Ride to-day through Manhattan. Libertad! I do not know whether o…
WOMEN sit, or move to and fro—so… some young; The young are beautiful—but the ol… young.
To conclude, I announce what come… I remember I said before my leave… I would raise my voice jocund and… When America does what was promis… When through these States walk a…
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…
Good-bye my fancy—(I had a word t… But ’tis not quite the time—The b… Is when its proper place arrives—a… I keep mine till the last.)
The negro holds firmly the reins o… The negro that drives the long dra… His blue shirt exposes his ample n… His glance is calm and commanding,… The sun falls on his crispy hair a…