#AmericanWriters #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
Hast never come to thee an hour, A sudden gleam divine, precipitati… wealth? These eager business aims—books, p… To utter nothingness?
Add to your show, before you close… With all the rest, visible, concre… and ores, Our sentiment wafted from many mil… (We grand-sons and great-grandsons…
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—…
I see in you the estuary that enla… in the great sea.
Among the men and women, the multi… I perceive one picking me out by s… Acknowledging none else—not parent… any nearer than I am; Some are baffled—But that one is…
As they draw to a close, Of what underlies the precedent so… Of the seed I have sought to plan… Of joy, sweet joy, through many a… (For them, for them have I lived,…
Gliding o’er all, through all, Through Nature, Time, and Space, As a ship on the waters advancing, The voyage of the soul—not life al… Death, many deaths I’ll sing.
As I sit in twilight late alone b… Musing on long-pass’d war-scenes—o… Of the vacant names, as unindented… The brief truce after battle, with… trenches
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…
Why, who makes much of a miracle? As to me I know of nothing else b… Whether I walk the streets of Man… Or dart my sight over the roofs of… Or wade with naked feet along the…
That shadow my likeness that goes… chattering, chaffering, How often I find myself standing… How often I question and doubt wh… But among my lovers and caroling t…
Me imperturbe, standing at ease in… Master of all, or mistress of all—… of irrational things, Imbued as they—passive, receptive,… Finding my occupation, poverty, no…
Who includes diversity and is Nat… Who is the amplitude of the earth,… the earth, and the great charity o… Who has not look’d forth from the… whose brain held audience with mes…
I heard you solemn-sweet pipes of… pass’d the church, Winds of autumn, as I walk’d the… stretch’d sighs up above so mournf… I heard the perfect Italian tenor…
I think I could turn and live wit… I stand and look at them long and… They do not sweat and whine about… They do not lie awake in the dark… They do not make me sick discussin…