#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
I was asking for something specifi… Whereupon lo! upsprang the aborigi… Now I see what there is in a name… self-sufficient, I see that the word of my city is…
Joy! shipmate—joy! (Pleas’d to my Soul at death I cr… Our life is closed—our life begins… The long, long anchorage we leave, The ship is clear at last—she leap…
1 To think of it! To think of time—of all that retro… To think of to—day and the ages co… forward! 2 Have you guess’d you yourself w…
Come, said my Soul Such verses for my Body let us wr… That should I after death invisib… Or, long, long hence, in other sph… There to some group of mates the c…
O BITTER sprig! Confession spr… In the bouquet I give you place a… Proceeding no further till, humble… I give fair warning, once for all. I own that I have been sly, thiev…
O tan-faced prairie-boy, Before you came to camp came many… Praises and presents came and nour… You came, taciturn, with nothing t… When lo! more than all the gifts o…
A great year and place A harsh discordant natal scream ou… heart closer than any yet. I walk’d the shores of my Eastern… Heard over the waves the little vo…
1 THE indications, and tally of… Perfect sanity shows the master am… Time, always without flaw, indicat… What always indicates the poet, is… pleasant company of singers, and t…
Facing west, from California’s sh… Inquiring, tireless, seeking what… I, a child, very old, over waves,… land of migrations, look afar, Look off the shores of my Western…
How solemn as one by one, As the ranks returning worn and sw… As the faces the masks appear, as… (As I glance upward out of this p… you are,)
STATES! Were you looking to be held togeth… By an agreement on a paper? Or by… Away! I arrive, bringing these, beyond a…
Out of the murk of heaviest clouds… Out of the feudal wrecks and heap’… Out of that old entire European d… Ruin’d cathedrals, crumble of pala… Lo, Freedom’s features fresh undi…
As the time draws nigh glooming a… A dread beyond of I know not what… I shall go forth, I shall traverse the States awhil… Perhaps soon some day or night whi…
O, Death! a black and pierceless… Hangs round thee, and the future s… No eye may see, no mind may grasp That mystery of fate. This braid, which now alternate th…
Spontaneous me, Nature, The loving day, the mounting sun,… The arm of my friend hanging idly… The hill-side whiten’d with blosso… The same, late in autumn—the hues…