#AmericanWriters #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
Lo! THE unbounded sea! On its breast a Ship, spreading a… Ship, carrying even her moonsails; The pennant is flying aloft, as sh… speeds so stately—below, emulous w…
By broad Potomac’s shore, again o… (Still uttering, still ejaculating… Again old heart so gay, again to y… returning, Again the freshness and the odors,…
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…
To the East and to the West; To the man of the Seaside State,… To the Kanadian of the North—to t… These, with perfect trust, to depi… all men;
Oh me! Oh life! of the questions… Of the endless trains of the faith… Of myself forever reproaching myse… and who more faithless?) Of eyes that vainly crave the ligh…
LONG I thought that knowledge al… but obtain knowledge! Then my lands engrossed me—Lands… southern savannas, engrossed me—Fo… be their orator;
Have I no weapon-word for thee—so… (Have I fought out and done indee… For all thy affectations, lisps, s… Nor for myself—my own rebellious s… Down, down, proud gorge!—though ch…
How dare one say it? After the cycles, poems, singers,… Vaunted Ionia’s, India’s –Homer,… dotted roads, areas, The shining clusters and the Milk…
Is reform needed? Is it through y… The greater the reform needed, the… to accomplish it. You! do you not see how it would s… complexion, clean and sweet?
As one by one withdraw the lofty a… From that great play on history’s… That lurid, partial act of war and… Fought out through wrath, fears, d… All past—and since, in countless g…
Ashes of soldiers South or North, As I muse retrospective murmuring… The war resumes, again to my sense… And again the advance of the armie… Noiseless as mists and vapors,
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!
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;
THERE are who teach only the swe… But I teach lessons of war and de… That they readily meet invasions,…
We two boys together clinging, One the other never leaving, Up and down the roads going—North… Power enjoying—elbows stretching—f… Arm’d and fearless—eating, drinkin…