#AmericanWriters #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
By the city dead-house by the gate… As idly sauntering wending my way… I curious pause, for lo, an outcas… Her corpse they deposit unclaim’d,… The divine woman, her body, I see…
Hast never come to thee an hour, A sudden gleam divine, precipitati… wealth? These eager business aims—books, p… To utter nothingness?
IN the new garden, in all the par… In cities now, modern, I wander, Though the second or third result,… Days, places, indifferent—though v… Time, Paradise, the Mannahatta, t…
A song for occupations! In the labor of engines and trades… developments, And find the eternal meanings. Workmen and Workwomen!
Adieu O soldier, You of the rude campaigning, (whic… The rapid march, the life of the c… The hot contention of opposing fro… Red battles with their slaughter,…
TWO Rivulets side by side, Two blended, parallel, strolling t… Companions, travelers, gossiping a… For the Eternal Ocean bound, These ripples, passing surges, str…
Would you hear of an old-time sea-… Would you learn who won by the lig… List to the yarn, as my grandmothe… Our foe was no skulk in his ship… His was the surly English pluck,…
As the Greek’s signal flame, by a… Rose from the hill-top, like appla… Welcoming in fame some special vet… With rosy tinge reddening the land… So I aloft from Mannahatta’s ship…
(“The Seventeenth—the finest Regi… Through the soft evening air enwin… Rocks, woods, fort, cannon, pacing… In dulcet streams, in flutes’ and… Electric, pensive, turbulent, arti…
Locations and times—what is it in… and wherever, and makes me at home… Forms, colors, densities, odors—wh… them?
Despairing cries float ceaselessly… The sad voice of Death—the call o… alarmed, uncertain, “This sea I am quickly to sail, c… Come tell me where I am speeding—…
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…
The last sunbeam Lightly falls from the finish’d S… On the pavement here, and there be… Down a new-made double grave. Lo, the moon ascending,
Quicksand years that whirl me I k… Your schemes, politics, fail, line… Only the theme I sing, the great… One’s-self must never give way—tha… all is sure,
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…