#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
To think of time—of all that retro… To think of to-day, and the ages c… Have you guess’d you yourself woul… Have you dreaded these earth-beetl… Have you fear’d the future would b…
Ah, not this marble, dead and cold… Far from its base and shaft expand… comprehending, Thou, Washington, art all the wor… alone, America,
No labor-saving machine, Nor discovery have I made; Nor will I be able to leave behin… hospital or library, Nor reminiscence of any deed of co…
The touch of flame—the illuminatin… O’er city, passion, sea—o’er prair… The airy, different, changing hues… Objects and groups, bearings, face… The calmer sight—the golden settin…
An old man bending I come among n… Years looking backward resuming in… Come tell us old man, as from youn… (Arous’d and angry, I’d thought t… But soon my fingers fail’d me, my…
After the dazzle of day is gone, Only the dark, dark night shows to… After the clangor of organ majesti… Silent, athwart my soul, moves the…
By broad Potomac’s shore, again o… (Still uttering, still ejaculating… Again old heart so gay, again to y… returning, Again the freshness and the odors,…
Proud music of the storm, Blast that careers so free, whistl… Strong hum of forest tree-tops—win… Personified dim shapes—you hidden… You serenades of phantoms with ins…
In a little house keep I pictures… It is round, it is only a few inch… Yet behold, it has room for all th… Here the tableaus of life, and her… Here, do you know this? this is ci…
As I ebb’d with the ocean of life… As I wended the shores I know, As I walk’d where the ripples con… Where they rustle up hoarse and si… Where the fierce old mother endles…
This latent mine—these unlaunch’d… Wrath, argument, or praise, or com… (Not nonpareil, brevier, bourgeois… These ocean waves arousable to fur… Or sooth’d to ease and sheeny sun…
While my wife at my side lies slum… And my head on the pillow rests at… And through the stillness, through… of my infant, There in the room as I wake from…
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…
Passing stranger! you do not know… You must be he I was seeking, or… I have somewhere surely lived a li… All is recall’d as we flit by each… You grew up with me, were a boy wi…
Come said the Muse, Sing me a song no poet yet has cha… Sing me the universal. In this broad earth of ours, Amid the measureless grossness and…