Leaves of Grass
#AmericanWriters
Warble me now for joy of lilac-tim… Sort me O tongue and lips for Nat… Gather the welcome signs, (as chil… Put in April and May, the hylas c… Bees, butterflies, the sparrow wit…
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…
Heave the anchor short! Raise main-sail and jib—steer fort… O little white-hull’d sloop, now s… (I will not call it our concluding… But outset and sure entrance to th…
To The States, or any one of them… Resist much, obey little; Once unquestioning obedience, once… Once fully enslaved, no nation, st…
One’s-Self I sing, a simple separ… Yet utter the word Democratic, th… Of physiology from top to toe I s… Not physiognomy alone nor brain al… The Female equally with the Male…
Come my tan-faced children, Follow well in order, get your wea… Have you your pistols? have you yo… Pioneers! O pioneers! For we cannot tarry here,
The prairie-grass dividing—its spe… I demand of it the spiritual corre… Demand the most copious and close… Demand the blades to rise of words… Those of the open atmosphere, coar…
Where the city’s ceaseless crowd m… Withdrawn I join a group of child… By the curb toward the edge of the… A knife-grinder works at his wheel… Bending over he carefully holds it…
As down the stage again, With Spanish hat and plumes, and… Back from the fading lessons of th… How much from thee! the revelation… (So firm—so liquid-soft—again that…
How they are provided for upon the… How they inure to themselves as mu… appears their age, How people respond to them, yet kn… How there is something relentless…
IN the new garden, in all the par… In cities now, modern, I wander, Though the second or third result,… Days, places, indifferent—though v… Time, Paradise, the Mannahatta, t…
After the sea-ship, after the whis… After the white-gray sails taut to… Below, a myriad myriad waves haste… Tending in ceaseless flow toward t… Waves of the ocean bubbling and gu…
As I sit writing here, sick and g… Not my least burden is that dulnes… Ungracious glooms, aches, lethargy… May filter in my dally songs.
If I should need to name, O West… and show, ’Twould not be you, Niagara—nor y… huge rifts of canyons, Colorado, Nor you, Yosemite—nor Yellowstone…
TRICKLE, drops! my blue veins <… O drops of me! trickle, slow drops… Candid, from me falling—drip, blee… From wounds made to free you whenc… From my face—from my forehead and…