#AmericanWriters #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
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;
O TO make the most jubilant poem! Even to set off these, and merge w… O full of music! full of manhood,… Full of common employments! full o… O for the voices of animals! O fo…
Add to your show, before you close… With all the rest, visible, concre… and ores, Our sentiment wafted from many mil… (We grand-sons and great-grandsons…
THITHER, as I look, I see each… nestling close, always obligated; Thither hours, months, years—thith… establishments, even the most minu… Thither every-day life, speech, ut…
When I peruse the conquer’d fame… mighty generals, I do not envy the… Nor the President in his Presiden… But when I hear of the brotherhoo… How through life, through dangers,…
Twenty-eight young men bathe by th… Twenty-eight young men and all so… Twenty-eight years of womanly life… She owns the fine house by the ris… She hides handsome and richly dres…
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…
Behold this swarthy face—these gra… This beard—the white wool, unclipt… My brown hands, and the silent man… Yet comes one, a Manhattanese, an… on the lips with robust love,
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…
Come my tan-faced children, Follow well in order, get your wea… Have you your pistols? have you yo… Pioneers! O pioneers! For we cannot tarry here,
A lesser proof than old Voltaire’… Proof of this present time, and th… To my plain Northern hut, in outs… Brought safely for a thousand mile… Some three days since on their own…
Gliding o’er all, through all, Through Nature, Time, and Space, As a ship on the waters advancing, The voyage of the soul—not life al… Death, many deaths I’ll sing.
Have you learn’d lessons only of t… tender with you, and stood aside f… Have you not learn’d great lessons… themselves against you? or who tre… the passage with you?
I HEAR you have been asking for… sent the new race, our self-poised… Therefore I send you my poems, th… them what you wanted.
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…
