#AmericanWriters #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
O MATER! O fils! O brood continental! O flowers of the prairies! O space boundless! O hum of might… O you teeming cities! O so invinc…
At the last, tenderly, From the walls of the powerful for… From the clasp of the knitted lock… doors, Let me be wafted.
By blue Ontario’s shore, As I mused of these warlike days… that return no more, A Phantom gigantic superb, with s… Chant me the poem, it said, that c…
The last sunbeam Lightly falls from the finish’d S… On the pavement here, and there be… Down a new-made double grave. Lo, the moon ascending,
When lilacs last in the dooryard b… And the great star early droop’d i… I mourn’d, and yet shall mourn wit… Ever-returning spring, trinity sur… Lilac blooming perennial and droop…
The big doors of the country barn… The dried grass of the harvest-tim… The clear light plays on the brown… The armfuls are pack’d to the sagg… I am there, I help, I came stretc…
Nations ten thousand years before… thousand years before these States… Garner’d clusters of ages that men… and travel’d their course and pass… What vast-built cities, what order…
The soothing sanity and blitheness… The pomp and hurried contest-glare… Now triumph! transformation! jubil…
The wild gander leads his flock th… Ya-honk he says, and sounds it dow… The pert may suppose it meaningles… Find its purpose and place up ther… The sharp-hoof’d moose of the nort…
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?
As one by one withdraw the lofty a… From that great play on history’s… That lurid, partial act of war and… Fought out through wrath, fears, d… All past—and since, in countless g…
A song of the rolling earth, and o… Were you thinking that those were… curves, angles, dots? No, those are not the words, the s… and sea,
You lingering sparse leaves of me… And I some well-shorn tree of fie… You tokens diminute and lorn—(not… clover-bloom—no grain of August no… You pallid banner-staves—you penna…
I doubt it not—then more, far more… In each old song bequeath’d—in eve… (Different—something unreck’d befo… In every object, mountain, tree, a… As part of each—evolv’d from each—…
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…