#AmericanWriters #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
I WILL take an egg out of the ro… I will take a branch of gooseberri… and go and preach to the world; You shall see I will not meet a s… You shall see how I stump clergym…
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…
Joy! shipmate—joy! (Pleas’d to my Soul at death I cr… Our life is closed—our life begins… The long, long anchorage we leave, The ship is clear at last—she leap…
Out of the rolling ocean the crowd… Whispering, I love you, before lo… I have travell’d a long way merely… For I could not die till I once l… For I fear’d I might afterward lo…
O magnet-south! O glistening perf… O quick mettle, rich blood, impuls… to me! O dear to me my birth-things—all m… was born—the grains, plants, river…
Now precedent songs, farewell—by e… (Trains of a staggering line in ma… From ups and downs—with intervals—… “In Cabin’d Ships, or Thee Old… Or Paumanok, Song of Myself, Cal…
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…
These are really the thoughts of a… If they are not yours as much as m… If they are not the riddle and the… If they are not just as close as t… This is the grass that grows where…
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,…
Approaching, nearing, curious, Thou dim, uncertain spectre—bringe… Strength, weakness, blindness, mor… Or placid skies and sun? Wilt sti… Or haply cut me short for good? O…
Women sit or move to and fro, some… The young are beautiful—but the ol…
WHAT General has a good army in… He happy in himself, or she happy…
To The States, or any one of them… Resist much, obey little; Once unquestioning obedience, once… Once fully enslaved, no nation, st…
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…
To-day, from each and all, a breat… To memory of Him—to birth of Him.
