#Americans #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
Of these years I sing, How they pass and have pass’d thro… parturitions, How America illustrates birth, mu… fulfilment, the absolute success,…
I Celebrate myself, and sing myse… And what I assume you shall assum… For every atom belonging to me as… I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease observ…
Ah, whispering, something again, u… Where late this heated day thou en… Thou, laving, tempering all, cool-… Me, old, alone, sick, weak-down, m… Thou, nestling, folding close and…
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…
A march in the ranks hard-prest, a… A route through a heavy wood with… Our army foil’d with loss severe,… Till after midnight glimmer upon u… We come to an open space in the wo…
As I ebb’d with the ocean of life… As I wended the shores I know, As I walk’d where the ripples con… Where they rustle up hoarse and si… Where the fierce old mother endles…
America always! Always our own feuillage! Always Florida’s green peninsula!… Louisiana! Always the cotton—fiel… Always California’s golden hills…
From far Dakota’s canyons, Lands of the wild ravine, the dusk… Haply to-day a mournful wall, hapl… The battle-bulletin, The Indian ambuscade, the craft,…
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…
And who art thou? said I to the s… Which, strange to tell, gave me an… I am the Poem of Earth, said the… Eternal I rise impalpable out of… Upward to heaven, whence, vaguely…
Aboard at a ship’s helm, A young steersman steering with ca… Through fog on a sea-coast doleful… An ocean-bell—O a warning bell, r… O you give good notice indeed, you…
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…
And as to you Death, and you bitt… To his work without flinching the… I see the elder-hand pressing rece… I recline by the sills of the exqu… And mark the outlet, and mark the…
(Volunteer of 1861-2, at Washingt… Centenarian.) Give me your hand old Revolutiona… The hill-top is nigh, but a few st… Up the path you have follow’d me w…
This moment yearning and thoughtfu… It seems to me there are other men… thoughtful; It seems to me I can look over an… France, Spain—or far, far away, i…
