#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
Not to exclude or demarcate, or pi… masses (even to expose them,) But add, fuse, complete, extend—an… To span vast realms of space and t… Evolution—the cumulative—growths a…
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…
The touch of flame—the illuminatin… O’er city, passion, sea—o’er prair… The airy, different, changing hues… Objects and groups, bearings, face… The calmer sight—the golden settin…
Not the pilot has charged himself… beaten back and many times baffled… Not the pathfinder penetrating inl… By deserts parch’d, snows chill’d,… destination,
You who celebrate bygones, Who have explored the outward, the… has exhibited itself, Who have treated of man as the cre… and priests,
WHY reclining, interrogating? Wh… What deepening twilight! scum floa… Who are they, as bats and night-do… What a filthy Presidentiad! (O so… arctic freezings!)
Of these years I sing, How they pass and have pass’d thro… parturitions, How America illustrates birth, mu… fulfilment, the absolute success,…
If I should need to name, O West… and show, ’Twould not be you, Niagara—nor y… huge rifts of canyons, Colorado, Nor you, Yosemite—nor Yellowstone…
You laggards there on guard! look… In at the conquer’d doors they cro… Embody all presences outlaw’d or s… See myself in prison shaped like a… And feel the dull unintermitted pa…
Wandering at morn, Emerging from the night from gloom… Yearning for thee harmonious Unio… Thee coil’d in evil times my count… every meanness, treason thrust upo…
A song for occupations! In the labor of engines and trades… developments, And find the eternal meanings. Workmen and Workwomen!
When the full-grown poet came, Out spake pleased Nature (the rou… of day and night,) saying, He is m… But out spake too the Soul of man… Nay he is mine alone;
AMONG the men and women, the mul… I perceive one picking me out by s… Acknowledging none else—not parent… any nearer than I am; Some are baffled—But that one is…
WHAT weeping face is that lookin… Why does it stream those sorrowful… Is it for some burial place, vast… Is it to wet the soil of graves?
A batter’d, wreck’d old man, Thrown on this savage shore, far,… Pent by the sea and dark rebelliou… Sore, stiff with many toils, sicke… I take my way along the island’s e…