#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
Nothing is ever really lost, or ca… No birth, identity, form—no object… Nor life, nor force, nor any visib… Appearance must not foil, nor shif… Ample are time and space—ample the…
A song, a poem of itself—the word… Amid the wilds, the rocks, the sto… To me such misty, strange tableaux… Yonnondio— I see, far in the west or north, a…
That shadow my likeness that goes… chattering, chaffering, How often I find myself standing… How often I question and doubt wh… But among my lovers and caroling t…
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,
Alone far in the wilds and mountai… Wandering amazed at my own lightne… In the late afternoon choosing a s… Kindling a fire and broiling the f… Falling asleep on the gather’d lea…
Years of the modern! years of the… Your horizon rises—I see it parti… I see not America only—I see not… nations preparing; I see tremendous entrances and exi…
I see in you the estuary that enla… in the great sea.
With husky-haughty lips, O sea! Where day and night I wend thy su… Imaging to my sense thy varied str… (I see and plainly list thy talk a… Thy troops of white-maned racers r…
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…
This moment yearning and thoughtfu… It seems to me there are other men… thoughtful; It seems to me I can look over an… France, Spain—or far, far away, i…
The business man the acquirer vast… After assiduous years surveying re… Devises houses and lands to his ch… funds for a school or hospital, Leaves money to certain companions…
(Written in Platte Canyon, Color… Spirit that form’d this scene, These tumbled rock-piles grim and… These reckless heaven-ambitious pe… These gorges, turbulent-clear stre…
O span of youth! ever-push’d elast… O manhood, balanced, florid and fu… My lovers suffocate me, Crowding my lips, thick in the por… Jostling me through streets and pu…
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…
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…