#Americans #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
Scented herbage of my breast, Leaves from you I yield, I write,… Tomb-leaves, body-leaves, growing… Perennial roots, tall leaves—O th… delicate leaves,
Who are you dusky woman, so ancien… With your woolly-white and turban’… Why rising by the roadside here, d… (’Tis while our army lines Caroli… Forth from thy hovel door thou Et…
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…
Thou who hast slept all night upon… Waking renew’d on thy prodigious p… (Burst the wild storm? above it th… And rested on the sky, thy slave t… Now a blue point, far, far in heav…
No labor-saving machine, Nor discovery have I made; Nor will I be able to leave behin… hospital or library, Nor reminiscence of any deed of co…
Something startles me where I tho… I withdraw from the still woods I… I will not go now on the pastures… I will not strip the clothes from… I will not touch my flesh to the e…
Thee for my recitative, Thee in the driving storm even as… Thee in thy panoply, thy measur’d… Thy black cylindric body, golden b… Thy ponderous side-bars, parallel…
And whence and why come you? We know not whence, (was the answe… We only know that we drift here wi… That we linger’d and lagg’d—but we… To make the passing shower’s concl…
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…
The wild gander leads his flock th… Ya-honk he says, and sounds it dow… The pert may suppose it meaningles… Find its purpose and place up ther… The sharp-hoof’d moose of the nort…
LONG I thought that knowledge al… but obtain knowledge! Then my lands engrossed me—Lands… southern savannas, engrossed me—Fo… be their orator;
Thou Mother with thy equal brood, Thou varied chain of different St… A special song before I go I’d si… For thee, the future. I’d sow a seed for thee of endless…
Come up from the fields father, he… And come to the front door mother,… Lo, ’tis autumn, Lo, where the trees, deeper green,… Cool and sweeten Ohio’s villages…
A California song, A prophecy and indirection, a thou… A chorus of dryads, fading, depart… A murmuring, fateful, giant voice,… Voice of a mighty dying tree in th…
There was a child went forth every… And the first object he look’d upo… And that object became part of him… Or for many years or stretching cy… The early lilacs became part of th…
