#Americans #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
A Leaf for hand in hand! You natural persons old and young! You on the Mississippi, and on al… Mississippi! You friendly boatmen and mechanics…
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…
Beat! beat! drums!—blow! bugles! b… Through the windows—through doors—… Into the solemn church, and scatte… Into the school where the scholar… Leave not the bridegroom quiet—no…
As the Greek’s signal flame, by a… Rose from the hill-top, like appla… Welcoming in fame some special vet… With rosy tinge reddening the land… So I aloft from Mannahatta’s ship…
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…
There was a child went forth every… And the first object he look’d upo… And that object became part of him… Or for many years or stretching cy… The early lilacs became part of th…
THITHER, as I look, I see each… nestling close, always obligated; Thither hours, months, years—thith… establishments, even the most minu… Thither every-day life, speech, ut…
When I heard at the close of the… with plaudits in the capitol, stil… follow’d, And else when I carous’d, or when… was not happy,
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…
With husky-haughty lips, O sea! Where day and night I wend thy su… Imaging to my sense thy varied str… (I see and plainly list thy talk a… Thy troops of white-maned racers r…
In midnight sleep of many a face o… Of the look at first of the mortal… Of the dead on their backs with ar… I dream. Of scenes of Nature, fields and m…
All submit to them, where they sit… analysis, in the Soul; Not traditions—not the outer autho… the judges of outer authorities, a… They corroborate as they go, only…
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…
As I sit in twilight late alone b… Musing on long-pass’d war-scenes—o… Of the vacant names, as unindented… The brief truce after battle, with… trenches
Soon shall the winter’s foil be he… Soon shall these icy ligatures unb… And air, soil, wave, suffused shal… From these dead clods and chills a… Thine eyes, ears—all thy best attr…