#Americans #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
I am the poet of the Body and I a… The pleasures of heaven are with m… The first I graft and increase up… I am the poet of the woman the sam… And I say it is as great to be a…
The pure contralto sings in the or… The carpenter dresses his plank, t… The married and unmarried children… The pilot seizes the king-pin, he… The mate stands braced in the whal…
I believe in you my soul, the othe… And you must not be abased to the… Loafe with me on the grass, loose… Not words, not music or rhyme I w… Only the lull I like, the hum of…
We two, how long we were fool’d, Now transmuted, we swiftly escape… We are Nature, long have we been… We become plants, trunks, foliage,… We are bedded in the ground, we ar…
First O songs for a prelude, Lightly strike on the stretch’d ty… How she led the rest to arms, how… How at once with lithe limbs unwai… (O superb! O Manhattan, my own, m…
Arm’d year—year of the struggle, No dainty rhymes or sentimental lo… Not you as some pale poetling seat… But as a strong man erect, clothed… rifle on your shoulder,
BATHED in war’s perfume—delicat… (Should the days needing armies, n… O to hear you call the sailors and… beautiful woman! O to hear the tramp, tramp, of a m…
Sea-beauty! stretch’d and basking! One side thy inland ocean laving,… steamers, sails, And one the Atlantic’s wind cares… dark-gliding in the distance.
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…
On, on the same, ye jocund twain! My life and recitative, containing… Fitful as motley-tongues of flame,… one—combining all, My single soul—aims, confirmations…
The soft voluptuous opiate shades, The sun just gone, the eager light… dispell’d,) A haze—nirwana—rest and night—obli…
All submit to them, where they sit… analysis, in the Soul; Not traditions—not the outer autho… the judges of outer authorities, a… They corroborate as they go, only…
Endless unfolding of words of ages… And mine a word of the modern, the… A word of the faith that never bal… Here or henceforward it is all the… It alone is without flaw, it alone…
Pensive and faltering, The words the Dead I write, For living are the Dead, (Haply the only living, only real, And I the apparition, I the spect…
Who has gone farthest? for I woul… And who has been just? for I woul… And who most cautious? for I woul… And who has been happiest? O I th… happier than I,