#Americans #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
SAUNTERING the pavement, or r… road—lo! such faces! Faces of friendship, precision, ca… ideality; The spiritual prescient face—the a…
For him I sing, I raise the present on the past, (As some perennial tree out of its… With time and space I him dilate… To make himself by them the law un…
TRICKLE, drops! my blue veins <… O drops of me! trickle, slow drops… Candid, from me falling—drip, blee… From wounds made to free you whenc… From my face—from my forehead and…
THERE are who teach only the swe… But I teach lessons of war and de… That they readily meet invasions,…
Years of the modern! years of the… Your horizon rises—I see it parti… I see not America only—I see not… nations preparing; I see tremendous entrances and exi…
I see in you the estuary that enla… in the great sea.
Facing west, from California’s sh… Inquiring, tireless, seeking what… I, a child, very old, over waves,… land of migrations, look afar, Look off the shores of my Western…
(Ah little recks the laborer, How near his work is holding him t… The loving Laborer through space… After all not to create only, or f… But to bring perhaps from afar wha…
What you give me, I cheerfully ac… A little sustenance, a hut and gar… rendezvous with my poems; A traveler’s lodging and breakfast… Why should I be ashamed to own su…
Darest thou now O soul, Walk out with me toward the unknow… Where neither ground is for the fe… No map there, nor guide, Nor voice sounding, nor touch of h…
That coursing on, whate’er men’s s… Amid the changing schools, theolog… Amid the bawling presentations new… The round earth’s silent vital law…
Hush’d be the camps to-day, And soldiers let us drape our war-… And each with musing soul retire t… Our dear commander’s death. No more for him life’s stormy conf…
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,
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…
Oh me! Oh life! of the questions… Of the endless trains of the faith… Of myself forever reproaching myse… and who more faithless?) Of eyes that vainly crave the ligh…