#AmericanWriters #XIXCentury #FreeVerse #LeavesOfGrass
(Written in Platte Canyon, Color… Spirit that form’d this scene, These tumbled rock-piles grim and… These reckless heaven-ambitious pe… These gorges, turbulent-clear stre…
There was a child went forth every… And the first object he look’d upo… And that object became part of him… Or for many years or stretching cy… The early lilacs became part of th…
AMERICA always! Always our own feuillage! Always Florida’s green peninsula!… less delta of Louisiana! Always t… of Alabama and Texas!
Good-bye my fancy—(I had a word t… But ’tis not quite the time—The b… Is when its proper place arrives—a… I keep mine till the last.)
SO far, and so far, and on toward… Singing what is sung in this book,… me; But whether I continue beyond thi… Whether I shall dart forth the tr…
O span of youth! ever-push’d elast… O manhood, balanced, florid and fu… My lovers suffocate me, Crowding my lips, thick in the por… Jostling me through streets and pu…
Now lift me close to your face til… What you are holding is in reality… of a book; It is a man, flush’d and full-bloo… —We must separate awhile—Here! ta…
The past and present wilt’I hav… And proceed to fill my next fold o… Listener up there! what have you t… Look in my face while I snuff the… (Talk honestly, no one else hears…
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…
If I should need to name, O West… and show, ’Twould not be you, Niagara—nor y… huge rifts of canyons, Colorado, Nor you, Yosemite—nor Yellowstone…
Tears! tears! tears! In the night, in solitude, tears, On the white shore dripping, dripp… Tears, not a star shining, all dar… Moist tears from the eyes of a muf…
As I sit writing here, sick and g… Not my least burden is that dulnes… Ungracious glooms, aches, lethargy… May filter in my dally songs.
On journeys through the States we… (Ay, through the world—urged by th… Sailing henceforth to every land—t… We, willing learners of all, teach… We have watch’d the seasons dispen…
When the full-grown poet came, Out spake pleased Nature (the rou… of day and night,) saying, He is m… But out spake too the Soul of man… Nay he is mine alone;
Good-bye my Fancy! Farewell dear mate, dear love! I’m going away, I know not where, Or to what fortune, or whether I… So Good-bye my Fancy.
