#AmericanWriters
Would you hear of an old-time sea-… Would you learn who won by the lig… List to the yarn, as my grandmothe… Our foe was no skulk in his ship… His was the surly English pluck,…
Full of life, now, compact, visibl… I, forty years old the Eighty-thi… To one a century hence, or any num… To you, yet unborn, these, seeking… When you read these, I, that was…
The devilish and the dark, the dyi… The countless (nineteen-twentieths… The crazed, prisoners in jail, the… Venom and filth, serpents, the rav… (What is the part the wicked and t…
Recorders ages hence! Come, I will take you down undern… tell you what to say of me; Publish my name and hang up my pic… lover,
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…
I sit and look out upon all the so… oppression and shame; I hear secret convulsive sobs from… themselves, remorseful after deeds… I see, in low life, the mother mis…
Why reclining, interrogating? why… What deepening twilight-scum float… Who are they as bats and night-dog… What a filthy Presidentiad! (O S… arctic freezings!)
YEARS of the unperform’d! your h… parting away for more august drama… I see not America only—I see not… but other nations preparing; I see tremendous entrances and exi…
We two boys together clinging, One the other never leaving, Up and down the roads going—North… Power enjoying—elbows stretching—f… Arm’d and fearless—eating, drinkin…
WHAT weeping face is that lookin… Why does it stream those sorrowful… Is it for some burial place, vast… Is it to wet the soil of graves?
1 On the beach at night alone, As the old mother sways her to and… savage and husky song, As I watch the bright stars shini… of the clef of the universes, and…
WOMEN sit, or move to and fro—so… some young; The young are beautiful—but the ol… young.
I hear America singing, the varie… Those of mechanics, each one singi… The carpenter singing his as he me… The mason singing his as he makes… The boatman singing what belongs t…
O TO make the most jubilant poem! Even to set off these, and merge w… O full of music! full of manhood,… Full of common employments! full o… O for the voices of animals! O fo…
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…
