#AmericanWriters #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
To The States, or any one of them… Resist much, obey little; Once unquestioning obedience, once… Once fully enslaved, no nation, st…
To the garden, the world, anew asc… Potent mates, daughters, sons, pre… The love, the life of their bodies… Curious, here behold my resurrecti… The revolving cycles, in their wid…
THITHER, as I look, I see each… nestling close, always obligated; Thither hours, months, years—thith… establishments, even the most minu… Thither every-day life, speech, ut…
Year that trembled and reel’d bene… Your summer wind was warm enough,… A thick gloom fell through the sun… Must I change my triumphant songs… Must I indeed learn to chant the…
The two old, simple problems ever… Close home, elusive, present, baff… By each successive age insoluble,… To ours to-day—and we pass on the…
Let the reformers descend from the… bawling—let an idiot or insane per… Let judges and criminals be transp… in prison—let those that were pris… Let them that distrust birth and d…
WHAT General has a good army in… He happy in himself, or she happy…
(To U. S. G. return’d from his W… What best I see in thee, Is not that where thou mov’st down… Ever undimm’d by time shoots warli… Or that thou sat’st where Washing…
As I walk these broad majestic da… (For the war, the struggle of bloo… Against vast odds erewhile having… Now thou stridest on, yet perhaps… Perhaps to engage in time in still…
ONE song, America, before I go, I’d sing, o’er all the rest, with… For thee—the Future. I’d sow a seed for thee of endless… I’d fashion thy Ensemble, includi…
IN midnight sleep, of many a face… Of the look at first of the mortal… look; Of the dead on their backs, with a… I dream, I dream, I dream.
I sit and look out upon all the so… oppression and shame; I hear secret convulsive sobs from… themselves, remorseful after deeds… I see, in low life, the mother mis…
Aboard at a ship’s helm, A young steersman steering with ca… Through fog on a sea-coast doleful… An ocean-bell—O a warning bell, r… O you give good notice indeed, you…
Full of life, now, compact, visibl… I, forty years old the Eighty-thi… To one a century hence, or any num… To you, yet unborn, these, seeking… When you read these, I, that was…
With husky-haughty lips, O sea! Where day and night I wend thy su… Imaging to my sense thy varied str… (I see and plainly list thy talk a… Thy troops of white-maned racers r…