#Americans #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
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…
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…
ONE sweeps by, attended by an imm… All emblematic of peace—not a sold… One sweeps by, old, with black eye… He has the simple magnificence of… His face strikes as with flashes o…
When his hour for death had come, He slowly rais’d himself from the… Drew on his war-dress, shirt, legg… waist, Call’d for vermilion paint (his lo…
To conclude, I announce what come… I remember I said before my leave… I would raise my voice jocund and… When America does what was promis… When through these States walk a…
Among the men and women, the multi… I perceive one picking me out by s… Acknowledging none else—not parent… any nearer than I am; Some are baffled—But that one is…
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 they draw to a close, Of what underlies the precedent so… Of the seed I have sought to plan… Of joy, sweet joy, through many a… (For them, for them have I lived,…
LONG I thought that knowledge al… but obtain knowledge! Then my lands engrossed me—Lands… southern savannas, engrossed me—Fo… be their orator;
Approaching, nearing, curious, Thou dim, uncertain spectre—bringe… Strength, weakness, blindness, mor… Or placid skies and sun? Wilt sti… Or haply cut me short for good? O…
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…
Thou reader throbbest life and pri… Therefore for thee the following c…
O magnet-south! O glistening perf… O quick mettle, rich blood, impuls… to me! O dear to me my birth-things—all m… was born—the grains, plants, river…
Did we count great, O soul, to pe… Absorbing deep and full from thoug… But now from thee to me, caged bir… Filling the air, the lonesome room… Is it not just as great, O soul?
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…
