#AmericanWriters #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
The soft voluptuous opiate shades, The sun just gone, the eager light… dispell’d,) A haze—nirwana—rest and night—obli…
SOLID, ironical, rolling orb! Master of all, and matter of fact!… terms; Bringing to practical, vulgar test… dreams,
It is time to explain myself’let… What is known I strip away, I launch all men and women forward… The clock indicates the moment’b… We have thus far exhausted trillio…
Approaching, nearing, curious, Thou dim, uncertain spectre—bringe… Strength, weakness, blindness, mor… Or placid skies and sun? Wilt sti… Or haply cut me short for good? O…
A vague mist hanging ‘round half t… (Sometimes how strange and clear t… That all these solid things are in…
WHILE my wife at my side lies sl… are over long, And my head on the pillow rests at… tic midnight passes, And through the stillness, through…
To-day a rude brief recitative, Of ships sailing the seas, each wi… Of unnamed heroes in the ships—of… as the eye can reach, Of dashing spray, and the winds pi…
World take good notice, silver sta… Milky hue ript, wet of white detac… Coals thirty-eight, baleful and bu… Scarlet, significant, hands off wa… Now and henceforth flaunt from the…
On, on the same, ye jocund twain! My life and recitative, containing… Fitful as motley-tongues of flame,… one—combining all, My single soul—aims, confirmations…
Apple orchards, the trees all cove… Wheat fields carpeted far and near… The eternal, exhaustless freshness… The yellow, golden, transparent ha… The aspiring lilac bushes with pro…
Hush’d be the camps to-day, And soldiers let us drape our war-… And each with musing soul retire t… Our dear commander’s death. No more for him life’s stormy conf…
To conclude, I announce what come… I remember I said before my leave… I would raise my voice jocund and… When America does what was promis… When through these States walk a…
A SONG of the good green grass! A song no more of the city streets… A song of farms—a song of the soil… A song with the smell of sun-dried… handle the pitch-fork;
DID YOU ask dulcet rhymes from… Did you find what I sang erewhile… to understand? Why I was not singing erewhile fo… understand—nor am I now;
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…
