#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
I Celebrate myself, and sing myse… And what I assume you shall assum… For every atom belonging to me as… I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease observ…
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…
Of ownership—as if one fit to own… upon all, and incorporate them int… Of vista—suppose some sight in arr… presuming the growth, fulness, lif… (But I see the road continued, an…
Walt Whitman, a kosmos, of Manhat… Turbulent, fleshy, sensual, eating… No sentimentalist, no stander abov… No more modest than immodest. Unscrew the locks from the doors!
O hymen! O hymenee! why do you ta… O why sting me for a swift moment… Why can you not continue? O why d… Is it because if you continued bey… soon certainly kill me?
To The States, or any one of them… Resist much, obey little; Once unquestioning obedience, once… Once fully enslaved, no nation, st…
Far back, related on my mother’s s… Old Salt Kossabone, I’ll tell yo… (Had been a sailor all his life—wa… grandchild, Jenny; House on a hill, with view of bay…
From all the rest I single out yo… You are to die—let others tell you… I am exact and merciless, but I l… Softly I lay my right hand upon y… I do not argue, I bend my head cl…
By the bivouac’s fitful flame, A procession winding around me, so… first I note, The tents of the sleeping army, th… The darkness lit by spots of kindl…
After the dazzle of day is gone, Only the dark, dark night shows to… After the clangor of organ majesti… Silent, athwart my soul, moves the…
Hush’d be the camps to-day, And soldiers let us drape our war-… And each with musing soul retire t… Our dear commander’s death. No more for him life’s stormy conf…
Is this then a touch? quivering me… Flames and ether making a rush for… Treacherous tip of me reaching and… My flesh and blood playing out lig… On all sides prurient provokers st…
This is thy hour O Soul, thy free… Away from books, away from art, th… Thee fully forth emerging, silent,… lovest best, Night, sleep, death and the stars.
The touch of flame—the illuminatin… O’er city, passion, sea—o’er prair… The airy, different, changing hues… Objects and groups, bearings, face… The calmer sight—the golden settin…
Over the Western sea hither from… Courteous, the swart-cheek’d two-s… Leaning back in their open barouch… Ride to-day through Manhattan. Libertad! I do not know whether o…