#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
Youth, large, lusty, loving—youth… Do you know that Old Age may come… fascination? Day full-blown and splendid-day of… laughter,
These I singing in spring collect… (For who but I should understand… And who but I should be the poet… Collecting I traverse the garden… Now along the pond-side, now wadin…
Year of meteors! brooding year! I would bind in words retrospectiv… I would sing your contest for the… I would sing how an old man, tall,… scaffold in Virginia,
Welcome, Brazilian brother—thy am… A loving hand—a smile from the nor… (Let the future care for itself, w… Ours, ours the present throe, the… the faith;)
1 AS nearing departure, As the time draws nigh, glooming,… A dread beyond, of I know not wha… 2 I shall go forth, I shall traverse The States—but…
A SONG of the good green grass! A song no more of the city streets… A song of farms—a song of the soil… A song with the smell of sun-dried… handle the pitch-fork;
Among the men and women, the multi… I perceive one picking me out by s… Acknowledging none else—not parent… any nearer than I am; Some are baffled—But that one is…
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…
Word over all, beautiful as the sk… Beautiful that war and all its dee… That the hands of the sisters Dea… again, and ever again, this solid… For my enemy is dead, a man divine…
Long, too long America, Traveling roads all even and peace… only, But now, ah now, to learn from cri… with direst fate and recoiling not…
My city’s fit and noble name resum… Choice aboriginal name, with marve… A rocky founded island—shores wher… going, hurrying sea waves.
The world below the brine, Forests at the bottom of the sea,… Sea-lettuce, vast lichens, strange… openings, and pink turf, Different colors, pale gray and gr…
COME closer to me; Push close, my lovers, and take th… Yield closer and closer, and give… This is unfinish’d business with m… (I was chill’d with the cold types…
OF the visages of things—And of p… hells beneath; Of ugliness—To me there is just a… beauty—And now the ugliness of hum… me;
Beginning my studies the first ste… The mere fact consciousness, these… The least insect or animal, the se… The first step I say awed me and… I have hardly gone and hardly wish…