#Americans #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
COME closer to me; Push close, my lovers, and take th… Yield closer and closer, and give… possess. This is unfinish’d business with m…
Roots and leaves themselves alone… Scents brought to men and women fr… pond-side, Breast-sorrel and pinks of love—fi… than vines,
O hymen! O hymenee! why do you ta… O why sting me for a swift moment… Why can you not continue? O why d… Is it because if you continued bey… soon certainly kill me?
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.
Of him I love day and night I dre… And I dream’d I went where they h… in that place, And I dream’d I wander’d searchin… And I found that every place was…
(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…
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…
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…
On journeys through the States we… (Ay, through the world—urged by th… Sailing henceforth to every land—t… We, willing learners of all, teach… We have watch’d the seasons dispen…
Thanks in old age—thanks ere I go… For health, the midday sun, the im… For precious ever-lingering memori… father—you, brothers, sisters, fri… For all my days—not those of peace…
I saw old General at bay, (Old as he was, his gray eyes yet… His small force was now completely… He call’d for volunteers to run th… I saw a hundred and more step fort…
Joy! shipmate—joy! (Pleas’d to my Soul at death I cr… Our life is closed—our life begins… The long, long anchorage we leave, The ship is clear at last—she leap…
May-be one is now reading this who… life, Or may-be a stranger is reading th… Or may-be one who meets all my gra… derision,
When his hour for death had come, He slowly rais’d himself from the… Drew on his war-dress, shirt, legg… waist, Call’d for vermilion paint (his lo…
Manhattan’s streets I saunter’d p… On Time, Space, Reality—on such… Prudence. The last explanation always remain… immortality.