#AmericanWriters #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
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,…
OF the visages of things—And of p… hells beneath; Of ugliness—To me there is just a… beauty—And now the ugliness of hum… me;
Old farmers, travelers, workmen (n… Old sailors, out of many a perilou… Old soldiers from campaigns, with… Enough that they’ve survived at al… Forth from their struggles, trials…
Is this then a touch? quivering me… Flames and ether making a rush for… Treacherous tip of me reaching and… My flesh and blood playing out lig… On all sides prurient provokers st…
Sounds of the winter too, Sunshine upon the mountains—many a… From cheery railroad train—from ne… The whispering air—even the mute c… Children’s and women’s tones—rhyth…
Here, take this gift, I was reserving it for some hero,… One who should serve the good old… Some brave confronter of despots,… But I see that what I was reservi…
While not the past forgetting, To-day, at least, contention sunk… For sign reciprocal our Northern,… Lay on the graves of all dead sold… (Nor for the past alone—for meanin…
Arm’d year—year of the struggle, No dainty rhymes or sentimental lo… Not you as some pale poetling seat… But as a strong man erect, clothed… rifle on your shoulder,
BATHED in war’s perfume—delicat… (Should the days needing armies, n… O to hear you call the sailors and… beautiful woman! O to hear the tramp, tramp, of a m…
Rise O days from your fathomless… Long for my soul hungering gymnast… Long I roam’d amid the woods of t… I travel’d the prairies over and s… Nevadas, I cross’d the plateaus,
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;
(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…
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…
Lo, Victress on the peaks, Where thou with mighty brow regard… (The world O Libertad, that vainl… Out of its countless beleaguering… Dominant, with the dazzling sun ar…
Had I the choice to tally greates… To limn their portraits, stately,… Homer with all his wars and warrio… Or Shakespeare’s woe—entangled Ha… Meter or wit the best, or choice c…