#Americans #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
A batter’d, wreck’d old man, Thrown on this savage shore, far,… Pent by the sea and dark rebelliou… Sore, stiff with many toils, sicke… I take my way along the island’s e…
Proud music of the storm, Blast that careers so free, whistl… Strong hum of forest tree-tops—win… Personified dim shapes—you hidden… You serenades of phantoms with ins…
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…
The appointed winners in a long-st… The course of Time and nations—Eg… The past entire, with all its hero… Its store of songs, inventions, vo… Garner’d for now and thee—To thin…
In some unused lagoon, some namele… On sluggish, lonesome waters, anch… An old, dismasted, gray and batter… After free voyages to all the seas… tight,
Warble me now for joy of lilac-tim… Sort me O tongue and lips for Nat… Gather the welcome signs, (as chil… Put in April and May, the hylas c… Bees, butterflies, the sparrow wit…
By blue Ontario’s shore, As I mused of these warlike days… that return no more, A Phantom gigantic superb, with s… Chant me the poem, it said, that c…
My science-friend, my noblest woma… (Now buried in an English grave—a… sake,) Ended our talk—”The sum, concludi… learning, intuitions deep,
Where the city’s ceaseless crowd m… Withdrawn I join a group of child… By the curb toward the edge of the… A knife-grinder works at his wheel… Bending over he carefully holds it…
As consequent from store of summer… Or wayward rivulets in autumn flow… Or many a herb—lined brook’s retic… Or subterranean sea—rills making f… Songs of continued years I sing.
I see before me now a traveling ar… Below a fertile valley spread, wit… Behind, the terraced sides of a mo… Broken, with rocks, with clinging… The numerous camp-fires scatter’d…
I have heard what the talkers were… beginning and the end But I do not talk of the beginnin… There was never any more inception… Nor any more youth or age than the…
A child said, What is the grass?… hands; How could I answer the child?. .… is any more than he. I guess it must be the flag of my…
Over the carnage rose prophetic a… Be not dishearten’d, affection sha… Those who love each other shall be… They shall yet make Columbia vict… Sons of the Mother of All, you sh…
O living always, always dying! O the burials of me past and prese… O me while I stride ahead, materi… O me, what I was for years, now d… O to disengage myself from those c…
