#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
To the leaven’d soil they trod cal… (Forth from my tent emerging for g… In the freshness the forenoon air,… again to peace restored, To the fiery fields emanative and…
The pure contralto sings in the or… The carpenter dresses his plank, t… The married and unmarried children… The pilot seizes the king-pin, he… The mate stands braced in the whal…
Sauntering the pavement or riding… Faces of friendship, precision, ca… The spiritual-prescient face, the… The face of the singing of music,… judges broad at the back-top,
What think you I take my pen in h… The battle-ship, perfect-model’d,… offing to-day under full sail? The splendors of the past day? Or… envelopes me?
I see before me now a traveling ar… Below a fertile valley spread, wit… Behind, the terraced sides of a mo… Broken, with rocks, with clinging… The numerous camp-fires scatter’d…
Old farmers, travelers, workmen (n… Old sailors, out of many a perilou… Old soldiers from campaigns, with… Enough that they’ve survived at al… Forth from their struggles, trials…
Down on the ancient wharf, the san… He shipp’d as green-hand boy, and… vehement notion;) Since, twenty years and more have… While he the globe was circling ro…
On, on the same, ye jocund twain! My life and recitative, containing… Fitful as motley-tongues of flame,… one—combining all, My single soul—aims, confirmations…
1 On the beach at night alone, As the old mother sways her to and… savage and husky song, As I watch the bright stars shini… of the clef of the universes, and…
As I walk these broad majestic da… (For the war, the struggle of bloo… Against vast odds erewhile having… Now thou stridest on, yet perhaps… Perhaps to engage in time in still…
Flaunt of the sunshine I need not… You light surfaces only, I force… Earth! you seem to look for someth… Say, old top-knot, what do you wan… Man or woman, I might tell how I…
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…
The friendly and flowing savage, w… Is he waiting for civilization, or… Is he some Southwesterner rais’d… Is he from the Mississippi countr… The mountains? prairie-life, bush-…
Soon shall the winter’s foil be he… Soon shall these icy ligatures unb… And air, soil, wave, suffused shal… From these dead clods and chills a… Thine eyes, ears—all thy best attr…
No labor-saving machine, Nor discovery have I made; Nor will I be able to leave behin… hospital or library, Nor reminiscence of any deed of co…