#AmericanWriters #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
1 An old man bending, I come, am… Years looking backward, resuming,… dren, Come tell us old man, as from youn… that love me;
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,
Blind loving wrestling touch, shea… Did it make you ache so, leaving m… Parting track’d by arriving, perpe… Rich showering rain, and recompens… Sprouts take and accumulate, stand…
IN midnight sleep, of many a face… Of the look at first of the mortal… look; Of the dead on their backs, with a… I dream, I dream, I dream.
Shot gold, maroon and violet, dazz… The earth’s whole amplitude and N… for once to colors; The light, the general air possess… No limit, confine—not the Western…
Let the reformers descend from the… bawling—let an idiot or insane per… Let judges and criminals be transp… in prison—let those that were pris… Let them that distrust birth and d…
Lo! The unbounded sea! On its breast a Ship starting, sp… Ship, carrying even her moonsails; The pennant is flying aloft, as sh… below, emulous waves press forward…
The spotted hawk swoops by and acc… I too am not a bit tamed, I too a… I sound my barbaric yawp over the… The last scud of day holds back fo… It flings my likeness after the re…
How sweet the silent backward trac… The wanderings as in dreams—the me… their loves, joys, persons, voyage…
That shadow my likeness that goes… chattering, chaffering, How often I find myself standing… How often I question and doubt wh… But among my lovers and caroling t…
Ah poverties, wincings, and sulky… Ah you foes that in conflict have… (For what is my life or any man’s… the incessant war?) You degradations, you tussle with…
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…
More experiences and sights, stran… Times again, now mostly just after… Sometimes in spring, oftener in au… plain sight, Camps far or near, the crowded str…
I was looking a long while for the… It is not in those paged fables in… It is no more in the legends than… It is in the present—it is this ea… It is in Democracy—in this Americ…
For the lands, and for these passi… Now I awhile return to thee, O so… Reclining on thy breast, giving my… Answering the pulses of thy sane a… Tuning a verse for thee.
