#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
As I ebb’d with the ocean of life… As I wended the shores I know, As I walk’d where the ripples con… Where they rustle up hoarse and si… Where the fierce old mother endles…
Race of veterans—race of victors! Race of the soil, ready for confli… (No more credulity’s race, abiding… Race henceforth owning no law but… Race of passion and the storm.
Unseen buds, infinite, hidden well… Under the snow and ice, under the… Like babes in wombs, latent, folde… Billions of billions, and trillion… (On earth and in the sea—the unive…
Despairing cries float ceaselessly… The sad voice of Death—the call o… alarmed, uncertain, “This sea I am quickly to sail, c… Come tell me where I am speeding—…
Thou orb aloft full-dazzling! thou… Flooding with sheeny light the gra… The sibilant near sea with vistas… And tawny streaks and shades and s… O sun of noon refulgent! my specia…
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…
A Glimpse, through an interstice… Of a crowd of workmen and drivers… late of a winter night—And I unre… Of a youth who loves me, and whom… seating himself near, that he may…
Pensive and faltering, The words the Dead I write, For living are the Dead, (Haply the only living, only real, And I the apparition, I the spect…
Shut not your doors to me proud li… For that which was lacking on all… most, I bring, Forth from the war emerging, a boo… The words of my book nothing, the…
And now, gentlemen, A word I give to remain in your m… As base, and finale too, for all m… (So, to the students, the old prof… At the close of his crowded course…
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,
I sing the body electric, The armies of those I love engirt… They will not let me off till I g… And discorrupt them, and charge th… Was it doubted that those who corr…
Simple and fresh and fair from win… As if no artifice of fashion, busi… Forth from its sunny nook of shelt… the dawn, The spring’s first dandelion shows…
Here the frailest leaves of me, an… Here I shade and hide my thoughts… And yet they expose me more than a…
Youth, large, lusty, loving—youth… Do you know that Old Age may come… fascination? Day full-blown and splendid-day of… laughter,