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Walt Whitman

Walt Whitman

Book XX. By The Roadside: Thought

Of justice—as If could be any thing but the same ample law, expounded by natural judges and saviors,
As if it might be this thing or that thing, according to decisions.

#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass

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Piaciuto o affrontato da...
Bruno G.
Altre opere di Walt Whitman...
Book I. Inscriptions: Still Though the One I Sing

Still though the one I sing, (One, yet of contradictions made,)… I leave in him revolt, (O latent… indispensable fire!)
Book V. Calamus: I Dream’d in a Dream

I dream’d in a dream I saw a city… of the rest of the earth, I dream’d that was the new city of… Nothing was greater there than the… It was seen every hour in the acti…
Book XXXIV. Sands At Seventy: Memories

How sweet the silent backward trac… The wanderings as in dreams—the me… their loves, joys, persons, voyage…
Book XXXIV. Sands At Seventy: Yonnondio

A song, a poem of itself—the word… Amid the wilds, the rocks, the sto… To me such misty, strange tableaux… Yonnondio— I see, far in the west or north, a…
Book XXXV. Good-Bye My Fancy: Old Chants

An ancient song, reciting, ending, Once gazing toward thee, Mother o… Musing, seeking themes fitted for… Accept me, thou saidst, the elder… And name for me before thou goest…
Book I. Inscriptions: One’s-Self I Sing

One’s-Self I sing, a simple separ… Yet utter the word Democratic, th… Of physiology from top to toe I s… Not physiognomy alone nor brain al… The Female equally with the Male…
Book XXXIV. Sands At Seventy: Old Salt Kossabone

Far back, related on my mother’s s… Old Salt Kossabone, I’ll tell yo… (Had been a sailor all his life—wa… grandchild, Jenny; House on a hill, with view of bay…
Book XXX. Whispers of Heavenly Death: The Last Invocation

At the last, tenderly, From the walls of the powerful for… From the clasp of the knitted lock… doors, Let me be wafted.
Book XXI. Drum-Taps: Delicate Cluster

Delicate cluster! flag of teeming… Covering all my lands—all my seash… Flag of death! (how I watch’d you… pressing! How I heard you flap and rustle,…
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Book XX. By The Roadside: Mother and Babe

I see the sleeping babe, nestling… mother; The sleeping mother and babe—hush’… long and long.
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Book XX. By The Roadside: I Sit and Look Out

I sit and look out upon all the so… oppression and shame; I hear secret convulsive sobs from… themselves, remorseful after deeds… I see, in low life, the mother mis…
Book V. Calamus: Trickle Drops

Trickle drops! my blue veins leavi… O drops of me! trickle, slow drops… Candid from me falling, drip, blee… From wounds made to free you whenc… From my face, from my forehead and…
Song of Myself, XLV

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…
Hush'd Be the Camps To-Day

1 HUSH’D be the camps to-day; And, soldiers, let us drape our wa… And each, with musing soul retire,… Our dear commander’s death. 2 No more for him life’s stormy c…
Book IV. Children of Adam: Spontaneous Me

Spontaneous me, Nature, The loving day, the mounting sun,… The arm of my friend hanging idly… The hill-side whiten’d with blosso… The same, late in autumn—the hues…



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