#Americans #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
After a week of physical anguish, Unrest and pain, and feverish heat… Toward the ending day a calm and l… Three hours of peace and soothing…
In some unused lagoon, some namele… On sluggish, lonesome waters, anch… An old, dismasted, gray and batter… After free voyages to all the seas… tight,
Come up from the fields father, he… And come to the front door mother,… Lo, ’tis autumn, Lo, where the trees, deeper green,… Cool and sweeten Ohio’s villages…
From far Dakota’s canyons, Lands of the wild ravine, the dusk… Haply to-day a mournful wall, hapl… The battle-bulletin, The Indian ambuscade, the craft,…
Shut not your doors to me proud li… For that which was lacking on all… most, I bring, Forth from the war emerging, a boo… The words of my book nothing, the…
Unseen buds, infinite, hidden well… Under the snow and ice, under the… Like babes in wombs, latent, folde… Billions of billions, and trillion… (On earth and in the sea—the unive…
STATES! Were you looking to be held togeth… By an agreement on a paper? Or by… Away! I arrive, bringing these, beyond a…
Something startles me where I tho… I withdraw from the still woods I… I will not go now on the pastures… I will not strip the clothes from… I will not touch my flesh to the e…
I am he bringing help for the sick… And for strong upright men I brin… I heard what was said of the unive… Heard it and heard it of several t… It is middling well as far as it g…
Here the frailest leaves of me, an… Here I shade and hide my thoughts… And yet they expose me more than a…
On the beach at night alone, As the old mother sways her to and… As I watch the bright stars shini… universes and of the future. A vast similitude interlocks all,
Women sit or move to and fro, some… The young are beautiful—but the ol…
Nations ten thousand years before… thousand years before these States… Garner’d clusters of ages that men… and travel’d their course and pass… What vast-built cities, what order…
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…
As I ponder’d in silence, Returning upon my poems, consideri… A Phantom arose before me, with d… Terrible in beauty, age, and power… The genius of poets of old lands,