#AmericanWriters #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
Over the carnage rose prophetic a… Be not dishearten’d, affection sha… Those who love each other shall be… They shall yet make Columbia vict… Sons of the Mother of All, you sh…
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…
This is the meal equally set, this… It is for the wicked just the same… I will not have a single person sl… The kept-woman, sponger, thief, ar… The heavy-lipp’d slave is invited,…
How they are provided for upon the… How they inure to themselves as mu… appears their age, How people respond to them, yet kn… How there is something relentless…
OR, from that Sea of Time, Spray, blown by the wind—a double… (O little shells, so curious-convo… Yet will you not, to the tympans o… Murmurs and echoes still bring up—…
You lingering sparse leaves of me… And I some well-shorn tree of fie… You tokens diminute and lorn—(not… clover-bloom—no grain of August no… You pallid banner-staves—you penna…
1 An old man bending, I come, am… Years looking backward, resuming,… dren, Come tell us old man, as from youn… that love me;
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—…
Not from successful love alone, Nor wealth, nor honor’d middle age… But as life wanes, and all the tur… As gorgeous, vapory, silent hues c… As softness, fulness, rest, suffus…
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,…
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…
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…
Hark, some wild trumpeter, some st… Hovering unseen in air, vibrates c… I hear thee trumpeter, listening a… Now pouring, whirling like a tempe… Now low, subdued, now in the dista…
Roaming in thought over the Unive… steadily hastening towards immorta… And the vast all that is call’d E… and become lost and dead.
Behold this swarthy face—these gra… This beard—the white wool, unclipt… My brown hands, and the silent man… Yet comes one, a Manhattanese, an… on the lips with robust love,
