#AmericanWriters #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
And who art thou? said I to the s… Which, strange to tell, gave me an… I am the Poem of Earth, said the… Eternal I rise impalpable out of… Upward to heaven, whence, vaguely…
A Glimpse, through an interstice… Of a crowd of workmen and drivers… late of a winter night—And I unre… Of a youth who loves me, and whom… seating himself near, that he may…
What hurrying human tides, or day… What passions, winnings, losses, a… What whirls of evil, bliss and sor… What curious questioning glances… Leer, envy, scorn, contempt, hope,…
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…
As the time draws nigh glooming a… A dread beyond of I know not what… I shall go forth, I shall traverse the States awhil… Perhaps soon some day or night whi…
That coursing on, whate’er men’s s… Amid the changing schools, theolog… Amid the bawling presentations new… The round earth’s silent vital law…
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…
Far back, related on my mother’s s… Old Salt Kossabone, I’ll tell yo… (Had been a sailor all his life—wa… grandchild, Jenny; House on a hill, with view of bay…
Now I tell what I knew in Texas… (I tell not the fall of Alamo, Not one escaped to tell the fall o… The hundred and fifty are dumb yet… ’Tis the tale of the murder in col…
To the leaven’d soil they trod cal… (Forth from my tent emerging for g… In the freshness the forenoon air,… again to peace restored, To the fiery fields emanative and…
Thee for my recitative, Thee in the driving storm even as… Thee in thy panoply, thy measur’d… Thy black cylindric body, golden b… Thy ponderous side-bars, parallel…
What think you I take my pen in h… The battle-ship, perfect-model’d,… offing to-day under full sail? The splendors of the past day? Or… envelopes me?
Now lift me close to your face til… What you are holding is in reality… of a book; It is a man, flush’d and full-bloo… —We must separate awhile—Here! ta…
Here the frailest leaves of me, an… Here I shade and hide my thoughts… And yet they expose me more than a…
At the last, tenderly, From the walls of the powerful for… From the clasp of the knitted lock… doors, Let me be wafted.