#AmericanWriters #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
Now lift me close to your face til… What you are holding is in reality… of a book; It is a man, flush’d and full-bloo… —We must separate awhile—Here! ta…
NOT my enemies ever invade me—no… them I fear; But the lovers I recklessly love—… Lo! me, ever open and helpless, be… Utterly abject, grovelling on the…
All truths wait in all things, They neither hasten their own deli… They do not need the obstetric for… The insignificant is as big to me… (What is less or more than a touch…
As I sit in twilight late alone b… Musing on long-pass’d war-scenes—o… Of the vacant names, as unindented… The brief truce after battle, with… trenches
1 To think of it! To think of time—of all that retro… To think of to—day and the ages co… forward! 2 Have you guess’d you yourself w…
O BITTER sprig! Confession spr… In the bouquet I give you place a… Proceeding no further till, humble… I give fair warning, once for all. I own that I have been sly, thiev…
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…
Wandering at morn, Emerging from the night from gloom… Yearning for thee harmonious Unio… Thee coil’d in evil times my count… every meanness, treason thrust upo…
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…
1 FIRST, O songs, for a prelud… Lightly strike on the stretch’d ty… in my city, How she led the rest to arms—how s… How at once with lithe limbs, unwa…
(Written in Platte Canyon, Color… Spirit that form’d this scene, These tumbled rock-piles grim and… These reckless heaven-ambitious pe… These gorges, turbulent-clear stre…
To The States, or any one of them… Resist much, obey little; Once unquestioning obedience, once… Once fully enslaved, no nation, st…
THERE are who teach only the swe… But I teach lessons of war and de… That they readily meet invasions,…
I saw in Louisiana a live-oak gro… All alone stood it and the moss hu… Without any companion it grew ther… And its look, rude, unbending, lus… But I wonder’d how it could utter…
The place where a great city stand… Nor the place of ceaseless salutes… Nor the place of the tallest and c… Nor the place of the best librarie… Nor the place of the most numerous…