#AmericanWriters #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
O, Death! a black and pierceless… Hangs round thee, and the future s… No eye may see, no mind may grasp That mystery of fate. This braid, which now alternate th…
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…
Forms, qualities, lives, humanity,… The ones known, and the ones unkno… The stars themselves, some shaped,… Wonders as of those countries, the… whatever they may be,
Walt Whitman, a kosmos, of Manhat… Turbulent, fleshy, sensual, eating… No sentimentalist, no stander abov… No more modest than immodest. Unscrew the locks from the doors!
1 FIRST, O songs, for a prelud… Lightly strike on the stretch’d ty… in my city, How she led the rest to arms—how s… How at once with lithe limbs, unwa…
IN clouds descending, in midnight… Of the look at first of the mortal… Of the dead on their backs, with a… I dream, I dream, I dream. Of scenes of nature, the fields an…
Suddenly out of its stale and drow… Like lightning it le’pt forth half… Its feet upon the ashes and the ra… O hope and faith! O aching close of exiled patriots’…
Not to exclude or demarcate, or pi… masses (even to expose them,) But add, fuse, complete, extend—an… To span vast realms of space and t… Evolution—the cumulative—growths a…
These I singing in spring collect… (For who but I should understand… And who but I should be the poet… Collecting I traverse the garden… Now along the pond-side, now wadin…
Afoot and light-hearted I take to… Healthy, free, the world before me… The long brown path before me, lea… Henceforth I ask not good-fortune… Henceforth I whimper no more, pos…
Laws for creations, For strong artists and leaders, fo… literats for America, For noble savans and coming musici… All must have reference to the ens…
In paths untrodden, In the growth by margins of pond-w… Escaped from the lite that exhibit… From all the standards hitherto pu… conformities,
Nor alone those camps of white, ol… When as order’d forward, after a l… Footsore and weary, soon as the li… Some of us so fatigued carrying th… in our tracks,
Out of the cradle endlessly rockin… Out of the mocking-bird’s throat,… Out of the Ninth-month midnight, Over the sterile sands and the fie… bed wander’d alone, bareheaded, ba…
For his o’erarching and last lesso… In the fresh scent of the morning… On the slope of a teeming Persian… Under an ancient chestnut-tree wid… Spoke to the young priests and stu…