#AmericanWriters #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
Welcome, Brazilian brother—thy am… A loving hand—a smile from the nor… (Let the future care for itself, w… Ours, ours the present throe, the… the faith;)
IN midnight sleep, of many a face… Of the look at first of the mortal… look; Of the dead on their backs, with a… I dream, I dream, I dream.
Lo! The unbounded sea! On its breast a Ship starting, sp… Ship, carrying even her moonsails; The pennant is flying aloft, as sh… below, emulous waves press forward…
Me imperturbe, standing at ease in… Master of all, or mistress of all—… of irrational things, Imbued as they—passive, receptive,… Finding my occupation, poverty, no…
As the time draws nigh glooming a… A dread beyond of I know not what… I shall go forth, I shall traverse the States awhil… Perhaps soon some day or night whi…
Look down fair moon and bathe this… Pour softly down night’s nimbus fl… On the dead on their backs with ar… Pour down your unstinted nimbus sa…
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…
The soft voluptuous opiate shades, The sun just gone, the eager light… dispell’d,) A haze—nirwana—rest and night—obli…
Thick-sprinkled bunting! flag of s… Long yet your road, fateful flag—l… bloody death, For the prize I see at issue at l… All its ships and shores I see in…
WHAT General has a good army in… He happy in himself, or she happy… But I tell you you cannot be happ… beget or conceive a child by other…
A promise to California, Also to the great Pastoral Plains… Sojourning east a while longer, so… to teach robust American love; For I know very well that I and r…
The last sunbeam Lightly falls from the finish’d S… On the pavement here, and there be… Down a new-made double grave. Lo, the moon ascending,
THITHER, as I look, I see each… nestling close, always obligated; Thither hours, months, years—thith… establishments, even the most minu… Thither every-day life, speech, ut…
OR, from that Sea of Time, Spray, blown by the wind—a double… (O little shells, so curious-convo… Yet will you not, to the tympans o… Murmurs and echoes still bring up—…
Greater than memory of Achilles o… More, more by far to thee than tom… Those cart loads of old charnel as… Once living men—once resolute cour… The stepping stones to thee to-day…