#Americans #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
You lingering sparse leaves of me… And I some well-shorn tree of fie… You tokens diminute and lorn—(not… clover-bloom—no grain of August no… You pallid banner-staves—you penna…
As I sit writing here, sick and g… Not my least burden is that dulnes… Ungracious glooms, aches, lethargy… May filter in my dally songs.
Darest thou now O soul, Walk out with me toward the unknow… Where neither ground is for the fe… No map there, nor guide, Nor voice sounding, nor touch of h…
Out of the rolling ocean the crowd… Whispering, I love you, before lo… I have travell’d a long way merely… For I could not die till I once l… For I fear’d I might afterward lo…
A child said, What is the grass?… hands; How could I answer the child?. .… is any more than he. I guess it must be the flag of my…
Me imperturbe, standing at ease in… Master of all, or mistress of all—… of irrational things, Imbued as they—passive, receptive,… Finding my occupation, poverty, no…
Here the frailest leaves of me, an… Here I shade and hide my thoughts… And yet they expose me more than a…
This moment yearning and thoughtfu… It seems to me there are other men… thoughtful; It seems to me I can look over an… France, Spain—or far, far away, i…
The appointed winners in a long-st… The course of Time and nations—Eg… The past entire, with all its hero… Its store of songs, inventions, vo… Garner’d for now and thee—To thin…
How dare one say it? After the cycles, poems, singers,… Vaunted Ionia’s, India’s –Homer,… dotted roads, areas, The shining clusters and the Milk…
Houses and rooms are full of perfu… I breathe the fragrance myself and… The distillation would intoxicate… The atmosphere is not a perfume, i… It is for my mouth forever, I am…
Adieu O soldier, You of the rude campaigning, (whic… The rapid march, the life of the c… The hot contention of opposing fro… Red battles with their slaughter,…
Who has gone farthest? for I woul… And who has been just? for I woul… And who most cautious? for I woul… And who has been happiest? O I th… happier than I,
Oh me! Oh life! of the questions… Of the endless trains of the faith… Of myself forever reproaching myse… and who more faithless?) Of eyes that vainly crave the ligh…
A call in the midst of the crowd, My own voice, orotund sweeping and… Come my children, Come my boys and girls, my women,… Now the performer launches his ner…
