#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
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,
These I singing in spring collect… (For who but I should understand… And who but I should be the poet… Collecting I traverse the garden… Now along the pond-side, now wadin…
My science-friend, my noblest woma… (Now buried in an English grave—a… sake,) Ended our talk—”The sum, concludi… learning, intuitions deep,
Now lift me close to your face til… What you are holding is in reality… of a book; It is a man, flush’d and full-bloo… —We must separate awhile—Here! ta…
When I read the book, the biograp… And is this then (said I) what th… And so will some one when I am de… (As if any man really knew aught o… Why even I myself I often think k…
Apple orchards, the trees all cove… Wheat fields carpeted far and near… The eternal, exhaustless freshness… The yellow, golden, transparent ha… The aspiring lilac bushes with pro…
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…
And as to you Death, and you bitt… To his work without flinching the… I see the elder-hand pressing rece… I recline by the sills of the exqu… And mark the outlet, and mark the…
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…
Did you ask dulcet rhymes from me? Did you seek the civilian’s peacef… Did you find what I sang erewhile… Why I was not singing erewhile fo… am I now;
Is this then a touch? quivering me… Flames and ether making a rush for… Treacherous tip of me reaching and… My flesh and blood playing out lig… On all sides prurient provokers st…
As down the stage again, With Spanish hat and plumes, and… Back from the fading lessons of th… How much from thee! the revelation… (So firm—so liquid-soft—again that…
BROTHER of all, with generous h… Of thee, pondering on thee, as o’e… A thought to launch in memory of t… A burial verse for thee. What may we chant, O thou within…
To get betimes in Boston town I r… Here’s a good place at the corner,… Clear the way there Jonathan! Way for the President’s marshal—w… Way for the Federal foot and drag…
Sometimes with one I love I fill… unreturn’d love, But now I think there is no unret… or another (I loved a certain person ardently…