#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
Only themselves understand themsel… As souls only understand souls.
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…
By broad Potomac’s shore, again o… (Still uttering, still ejaculating… Again old heart so gay, again to y… returning, Again the freshness and the odors,…
Not heat flames up and consumes, Not sea-waves hurry in and out, Not the air, delicious and dry, th… lightly along white down-balls of… Wafted, sailing gracefully, to dro…
Suddenly out of its stale and drow… Like lightning it le’pt forth half… Its feet upon the ashes and the ra… O hope and faith! O aching close of exiled patriots’…
That music always round me, unceas… I did not hear, But now the chorus I hear and am… A tenor, strong, ascending with po… daybreak I hear,
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…
Now list to my morning’s romanza,… To the cities and farms I sing as… A young man comes to me bearing a… How shall the young man know the w… Tell him to send me the signs. An…
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,
SAUNTERING the pavement, or r… road—lo! such faces! Faces of friendship, precision, ca… ideality; The spiritual prescient face—the a…
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,)
Grand is the seen, the light, to m… Grand is the earth, and grand are… And grand their laws, so multiform… But grander far the unseen soul of… (What were all those, indeed, with…
SO far, and so far, and on toward… Singing what is sung in this book,… me; But whether I continue beyond thi… Whether I shall dart forth the tr…
As I ponder’d in silence, Returning upon my poems, consideri… A Phantom arose before me, with d… Terrible in beauty, age, and power… The genius of poets of old lands,
The sobbing of the bells, the sudd… The slumberers rouse, the rapport… (Full well they know that message… Full well return, respond within t… reverberations,)