Leaves of Grass
#AmericanWriters
Many things to absorb I teach to… Yet if blood like mine circle not… If you be not silently selected by…
Pensive and faltering, The words the Dead I write, For living are the Dead, (Haply the only living, only real, And I the apparition, I the spect…
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…
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…
Silent and amazed, even when a lit… I remember I heard the preacher e… As contending against some being o…
Thick-sprinkled bunting! flag of s… Long yet your road, fateful flag—l… bloody death, For the prize I see at issue at l… All its ships and shores I see in…
What am I, after all, but a child… name? repeating it over and over; I stand apart to hear—it never tir… To you, your name also; Did you think there was nothing bu…
First O songs for a prelude, Lightly strike on the stretch’d ty… How she led the rest to arms, how… How at once with lithe limbs unwai… (O superb! O Manhattan, my own, m…
COME, I will make the continent… I will make the most splendid race… I will make divine magnetic lands, With the love of comrades, With the life-long love of comrade…
By the city dead-house by the gate… As idly sauntering wending my way… I curious pause, for lo, an outcas… Her corpse they deposit unclaim’d,… The divine woman, her body, I see…
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…
Why reclining, interrogating? why… What deepening twilight-scum float… Who are they as bats and night-dog… What a filthy Presidentiad! (O S… arctic freezings!)
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…
Where the city’s ceaseless crowd m… Withdrawn I join a group of child… By the curb toward the edge of the… A knife-grinder works at his wheel… Bending over he carefully holds it…
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…