#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
After surmounting three-score and… With all their chances, changes, l… My parents’ deaths, the vagaries o… me, the war of ’63 and ‘4, As some old broken soldier, after…
Somehow I cannot let it go yet, f… Let it remain back there on its na… With pink, blue, yellow, all blanc… One wither’d rose put years ago fo… But I do not forget thee. Hast th…
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…
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…
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…
STATES! Were you looking to be held togeth… By an agreement on a paper? Or by… Away! I arrive, bringing these, beyond a…
Many things to absorb I teach to… Yet if blood like mine circle not… If you be not silently selected by…
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…
America always! Always our own feuillage! Always Florida’s green peninsula!… Louisiana! Always the cotton—fiel… Always California’s golden hills…
How sweet the silent backward trac… The wanderings as in dreams—the me… their loves, joys, persons, voyage…
IN midnight sleep, of many a face… Of the look at first of the mortal… look; Of the dead on their backs, with a… I dream, I dream, I dream.
(To U. S. G. return’d from his W… What best I see in thee, Is not that where thou mov’st down… Ever undimm’d by time shoots warli… Or that thou sat’st where Washing…
I sing the body electric, The armies of those I love engirt… They will not let me off till I g… And discorrupt them, and charge th… Was it doubted that those who corr…
From pent-up, aching rivers; From that of myself, without which… From what I am determin’d to make… among men; From my own voice resonant—singing…
Ashes of soldiers South or North, As I muse retrospective murmuring… The war resumes, again to my sense… And again the advance of the armie… Noiseless as mists and vapors,