#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
1 GREAT are the myths—I too de… Great are Adam and Eve—I too loo… them; Great the risen and fallen nations… women, sages, inventors, rulers, w…
Good-bye my fancy—(I had a word t… But ’tis not quite the time—The b… Is when its proper place arrives—a… I keep mine till the last.)
Of the terrible doubt of appearanc… Of the uncertainty after all—that… That may-be reliance and hope are… That may-be identity beyond the gr… May-be the things I perceive—the…
Would you hear of an old-time sea-… Would you learn who won by the lig… List to the yarn, as my grandmothe… Our foe was no skulk in his ship… His was the surly English pluck,…
Flaunt of the sunshine I need not… You light surfaces only, I force… Earth! you seem to look for someth… Say, old top-knot, what do you wan… Man or woman, I might tell how I…
Adieu O soldier, You of the rude campaigning, (whic… The rapid march, the life of the c… The hot contention of opposing fro… Red battles with their slaughter,…
After the supper and talk—after th… As a friend from friends his final… Good-bye and Good-bye with emotio… (So hard for his hand to release t… No more for communion of sorrow an…
I am he that aches with amorous lo… Does the earth gravitate? Does no… matter? So the Body of me, to all I meet,…
Greater than memory of Achilles o… More, more by far to thee than tom… Those cart loads of old charnel as… Once living men—once resolute cour… The stepping stones to thee to-day…
Race of veterans—race of victors! Race of the soil, ready for confli… (No more credulity’s race, abiding… Race henceforth owning no law but… Race of passion and the storm.
An old man bending I come among n… Years looking backward resuming in… Come tell us old man, as from youn… (Arous’d and angry, I’d thought t… But soon my fingers fail’d me, my…
I believe in you my soul, the othe… And you must not be abased to the… Loafe with me on the grass, loose… Not words, not music or rhyme I w… Only the lull I like, the hum of…
The friendly and flowing savage, w… Is he waiting for civilization, or… Is he some Southwesterner rais’d… Is he from the Mississippi countr… The mountains? prairie-life, bush-…
Of that blithe throat of thine fro… I’ll mind the lesson, solitary bir… E’en the profoundest chill, as now… Old age land-lock’d within its win… These snowy hairs, my feeble arm,…
1 THE indications, and tally of… Perfect sanity shows the master am… Time, always without flaw, indicat… What always indicates the poet, is… pleasant company of singers, and t…
