#AmericanWriters #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
OF the visages of things—And of p… hells beneath; Of ugliness—To me there is just a… beauty—And now the ugliness of hum… me;
Sauntering the pavement or riding… Faces of friendship, precision, ca… The spiritual-prescient face, the… The face of the singing of music,… judges broad at the back-top,
Laws for creations, For strong artists and leaders, fo… literats for America, For noble savans and coming musici… All must have reference to the ens…
What place is besieged, and vainly… Lo! I send to that place a comman… And with him horse and foot—and pa… And artillery-men, the deadliest t…
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…
A Glimpse, through an interstice… Of a crowd of workmen and drivers… late of a winter night—And I unre… Of a youth who loves me, and whom… seating himself near, that he may…
Of ownership—as if one fit to own… upon all, and incorporate them int… Of vista—suppose some sight in arr… presuming the growth, fulness, lif… (But I see the road continued, an…
ONE song, America, before I go, I’d sing, o’er all the rest, with… For thee—the Future. I’d sow a seed for thee of endless… I’d fashion thy Ensemble, includi…
I heard that you ask’d for somethi… And to define America, her athlet… Therefore I send you my poems tha… wanted.
And now, gentlemen, A word I give to remain in your m… As base, and finale too, for all m… (So, to the students, the old prof… At the close of his crowded course…
I see before me now a traveling ar… Below a fertile valley spread, wit… Behind, the terraced sides of a mo… Broken, with rocks, with clinging… The numerous camp-fires scatter’d…
Stranger! if you, passing, meet me… speak to me, why should you not sp… And why should I not speak to you…
Long, too long America, Traveling roads all even and peace… only, But now, ah now, to learn from cri… with direst fate and recoiling not…
As I watch’d the ploughman plough… Or the sower sowing in the fields,… I saw there too, O life and death… (Life, life is the tillage, and D…
As toilsome I wander’d Virginia’s… To the music of rustling leaves ki… I mark’d at the foot of a tree the… Mortally wounded he and buried on… understand,)