#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
Old farmers, travelers, workmen (n… Old sailors, out of many a perilou… Old soldiers from campaigns, with… Enough that they’ve survived at al… Forth from their struggles, trials…
Oh me! Oh life! of the questions… Of the endless trains of the faith… Of myself forever reproaching myse… and who more faithless?) Of eyes that vainly crave the ligh…
Where the city’s ceaseless crowd m… Withdrawn I join a group of child… By the curb toward the edge of the… A knife-grinder works at his wheel… Bending over he carefully holds it…
Pensive and faltering, The words the Dead I write, For living are the Dead, (Haply the only living, only real, And I the apparition, I the spect…
As I walk these broad majestic da… (For the war, the struggle of bloo… Against vast odds erewhile having… Now thou stridest on, yet perhaps… Perhaps to engage in time in still…
Come up from the fields father, he… And come to the front door mother,… Lo, ’tis autumn, Lo, where the trees, deeper green,… Cool and sweeten Ohio’s villages…
A Leaf for hand in hand! You natural persons old and young! You on the Mississippi, and on al… Mississippi! You friendly boatmen and mechanics…
A call in the midst of the crowd, My own voice, orotund sweeping and… Come my children, Come my boys and girls, my women,… Now the performer launches his ner…
The soothing sanity and blitheness… The pomp and hurried contest-glare… Now triumph! transformation! jubil…
A carol closing sixty-nine—a resum… My lines in joy and hope continuin… Of ye, O God, Life, Nature, Fre… Of you, my Land—your rivers, prai… Your aggregate retain’d entire—Of…
For him I sing, I raise the present on the past, (As some perennial tree out of its… With time and space I him dilate… To make himself by them the law un…
HOURS continuing long, sore and… Hours of the dusk, when I withdra… spot, seating myself, leaning my f… Hours sleepless, deep in the night… the country roads, or through the…
An ancient song, reciting, ending, Once gazing toward thee, Mother o… Musing, seeking themes fitted for… Accept me, thou saidst, the elder… And name for me before thou goest…
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…
Suddenly out of its stale and drow… Like lightning it le’pt forth half… Its feet upon the ashes and the ra… O hope and faith! O aching close of exiled patriots’…