#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
When the full-grown poet came, Out spake pleased Nature (the rou… of day and night,) saying, He is m… But out spake too the Soul of man… Nay he is mine alone;
By the city dead-house by the gate… As idly sauntering wending my way… I curious pause, for lo, an outcas… Her corpse they deposit unclaim’d,… The divine woman, her body, I see…
Upon this scene, this show, Yielded to-day by fashion, learnin… (Nor in caprice alone– some grains… Haply, aloft, (who knows?) from di… As some old tree, or rock or cliff…
Behold this swarthy face—these gra… This beard—the white wool, unclipt… My brown hands, and the silent man… Yet comes one, a Manhattanese, an… on the lips with robust love,
Steaming the northern rapids—(an o… A sudden memory-flash comes back,… Here waiting for the sunrise, gazi… Again ’tis just at morning—a heavy… Again the trembling, laboring vess…
As they draw to a close, Of what underlies the precedent so… Of the seed I have sought to plan… Of joy, sweet joy, through many a… (For them, for them have I lived,…
O magnet-south! O glistening perf… O quick mettle, rich blood, impuls… to me! O dear to me my birth-things—all m… was born—the grains, plants, river…
You laggards there on guard! look… In at the conquer’d doors they cro… Embody all presences outlaw’d or s… See myself in prison shaped like a… And feel the dull unintermitted pa…
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,…
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…
A Woman waits for me—she contains… Yet all were lacking, if sex were… right man were lacking. Sex contains all, Bodies, Souls, meanings, proofs,…
(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…
We two, how long we were fool’d, Now transmuted, we swiftly escape… We are Nature, long have we been… We become plants, trunks, foliage,… We are bedded in the ground, we ar…
Why, who makes much of a miracle? As to me I know of nothing else b… Whether I walk the streets of Man… Or dart my sight over the roofs of… Or wade with naked feet along the…
Hast never come to thee an hour, A sudden gleam divine, precipitati… wealth? These eager business aims—books, p… To utter nothingness?
