#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
Weapon shapely, naked, wan, Head from the mother’s bowels draw… Wooded flesh and metal bone, limb… Gray-blue leaf by red-heat grown,… Resting the grass amid and upon,
Manhattan’s streets I saunter’d p… On Time, Space, Reality—on such… Prudence. The last explanation always remain… immortality.
Whispers of heavenly death murmur’… Labial gossip of night, sibilant c… Footsteps gently ascending, mystic… Ripples of unseen rivers, tides of… (Or is it the plashing of tears? t…
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…
AN old man bending, I come, among… Years looking backward, resuming,… Come tell us, old man, as from you… (Arous’d and angry, I’d thought t… but soon my fingers fail’d me, my…
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,
Poets to come! orators, singers, m… Not to-day is to justify me, and a… But you, a new brood, native, athl… Arouse! Arouse—for you must justi… I myself but write one or two indi…
Space and Time! now I see it is t… What I guess’d when I loaf’d on t… What I guess’d while I lay alone… And again as I walk’d the beach u… My ties and ballasts leave me, my…
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…
Hark, some wild trumpeter, some st… Hovering unseen in air, vibrates c… I hear thee trumpeter, listening a… Now pouring, whirling like a tempe… Now low, subdued, now in the dista…
Who goes there? hankering, gross,… How is it I extract strength from… What is a man anyhow? what am I?… All I mark as my own you shall of… Else it were time lost listening t…
It is time to explain myself’let… What is known I strip away, I launch all men and women forward… The clock indicates the moment’b… We have thus far exhausted trillio…
Have I no weapon-word for thee—so… (Have I fought out and done indee… For all thy affectations, lisps, s… Nor for myself—my own rebellious s… Down, down, proud gorge!—though ch…
When I read the book, the biograp… And is this then (said I) what th… And so will some one when I am de… (As if any man really knew aught o… Why even I myself I often think k…
Not meagre, latent boughs alone,… talons,) But haply for some sunny day (who… summer—bursting forth, To verdant leaves, or sheltering s…