#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
Have you learn’d lessons only of t… tender with you, and stood aside f… Have you not learn’d great lessons… themselves against you? or who tre… the passage with you?
Of obedience, faith, adhesiveness; As I stand aloof and look there i… in large masses of men following t… men.
Women sit or move to and fro, some… The young are beautiful—but the ol…
LET us twain walk aside from the… Now we are together privately, do… mony; Come! vouchsafe to me what has yet… safed to none—Tell me the whole st…
As consequent from store of summer… Or wayward rivulets in autumn flow… Or many a herb—lined brook’s retic… Or subterranean sea—rills making f… Songs of continued years I sing.
Apple orchards, the trees all cove… Wheat fields carpeted far and near… The eternal, exhaustless freshness… The yellow, golden, transparent ha… The aspiring lilac bushes with pro…
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…
The friendly and flowing savage, w… Is he waiting for civilization, or… Is he some Southwesterner rais’d… Is he from the Mississippi countr… The mountains? prairie-life, bush-…
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…
I was looking a long while for the… It is not in those paged fables in… It is no more in the legends than… It is in the present—it is this ea… It is in Democracy—in this Americ…
May-be one is now reading this who… life, Or may-be a stranger is reading th… Or may-be one who meets all my gra… derision,
For the lands, and for these passi… Now I awhile return to thee, O so… Reclining on thy breast, giving my… Answering the pulses of thy sane a… Tuning a verse for thee.
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…
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…
1 ONE breath, O my silent soul, A perfum’d thought—no more I ask,… dead soldiers. 2 Buglers off in my armies! At present I ask not you to sound…