#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
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…
Did you ask dulcet rhymes from me? Did you seek the civilian’s peacef… Did you find what I sang erewhile… Why I was not singing erewhile fo… am I now;
On my northwest coast in the midst… fishermen’s group stands watching; Out on the lake, expanding before… spearing salmon; The canoe, a dim and shadowy thing…
More experiences and sights, stran… Times again, now mostly just after… Sometimes in spring, oftener in au… plain sight, Camps far or near, the crowded str…
I THOUGHT I was not alone, wal… But the one I thought was with me… As I lean and look through the gl… disappeared, And those appear that perplex me.
O take my hand, Walt Whitman! Such gliding wonders! such sights… Such join’d unended links, each ho… Each answering all—each sharing th… What widens within you, Walt Whit…
Add to your show, before you close… With all the rest, visible, concre… and ores, Our sentiment wafted from many mil… (We grand-sons and great-grandsons…
Still though the one I sing, (One, yet of contradictions made,)… I leave in him revolt, (O latent… indispensable fire!)
O sight of shame, and pain, and do… O fearful thought—a convict Soul! Rang the refrain along the hall, t… Rose to the roof, the vaults of he… Pouring in floods of melody in ton…
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,…
Who goes there? hankering, gross,… How is it I extract strength from… What is a man anyhow? what am I?… All I mark as my own you shall of… Else it were time lost listening t…
NOW I make a leaf of Voices—for… they are, And I have found that no word spo… O what is it in me that makes me t… Surely, whoever speaks to me in th…
A child said, What is the grass?… hands; How could I answer the child?. .… is any more than he. I guess it must be the flag of my…
Not heaving from my ribb’d breast… Not in sighs at night, in rage, di… Not in those long-drawn, ill-suppr… Not in many an oath and promise br… Not in my wilful and savage soul’s…
Beginning my studies the first ste… The mere fact consciousness, these… The least insect or animal, the se… The first step I say awed me and… I have hardly gone and hardly wish…