#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
To-day, from each and all, a breat… To memory of Him—to birth of Him.
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…
Not heat flames up and consumes, Not sea-waves hurry in and out, Not the air, delicious and dry, th… lightly along white down-balls of… Wafted, sailing gracefully, to dro…
HE is wisest who has the most cau… He only wins who goes far enough. ANY thing is as good as establish… lished that will produce it and co…
I do not despise you priests, all… My faith is the greatest of faiths… Enclosing worship ancient and mode… Believing I shall come again upon… Waiting responses from oracles, ho…
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…
Locations and times—what is it in… and wherever, and makes me at home… Forms, colors, densities, odors—wh… them?
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…
I heard that you ask’d for somethi… And to define America, her athlet… Therefore I send you my poems tha… wanted.
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…
1 FIRST, O songs, for a prelud… Lightly strike on the stretch’d ty… in my city, How she led the rest to arms—how s… How at once with lithe limbs, unwa…
O living always, always dying! O the burials of me past and prese… O me while I stride ahead, materi… O me, what I was for years, now d… O to disengage myself from those c…
As Adam, early in the morning, Walking forth from the bower, refr… Behold me where I pass—hear my vo… Touch me—touch the palm of your ha… Be not afraid of my Body.
For the Inauguration of a Public… An old man’s thought of school, An old man gathering youthful memo… cannot. Now only do I know you,
WHY reclining, interrogating? Wh… What deepening twilight! scum floa… Who are they, as bats and night-do… What a filthy Presidentiad! (O so… arctic freezings!)