#Americans #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass
As I mused of these mighty days, and of peace return’d, and the dead that return no more, A Phantom, gigantic, superb, with stern visage, accosted me; Chant me the poem, it said, ...
O you whom I often and silently c… with you; As I walk by your side, or sit ne… you, Little you know the subtle electri…
IN the new garden, in all the par… In cities now, modern, I wander, Though the second or third result,… Days, places, indifferent—though v… Time, Paradise, the Mannahatta, t…
Ever the undiscouraged, resolute,… (Have former armies fail’d? then w… Ever the grappled mystery of all e… Ever the eager eyes, hurrahs, the… Ever the soul dissatisfied, curiou…
To those who’ve fail’d, in aspirat… To unnam’d soldiers fallen in fron… To calm, devoted engineers—to over… their ships, To many a lofty song and picture w…
A thousand perfect men and women a… Around each gathers a cluster of f… with offerings.
Wild, wild the storm, and the sea… Steady the roar of the gale, with… Shouts of demoniac laughter fitful… Waves, air, midnight, their savage… Out in the shadows there milk-whit…
I am he bringing help for the sick… And for strong upright men I brin… I heard what was said of the unive… Heard it and heard it of several t… It is middling well as far as it g…
BATHED in war’s perfume—delicat… (Should the days needing armies, n… O to hear you call the sailors and… beautiful woman! O to hear the tramp, tramp, of a m…
TO ORATISTS—to male or female… Vocalism, measure, concentration,… to use words. Are you full-lung’d and limber-lip… practice? from physique?
NOW, dearest comrade, lift me to… We must separate awhile—Here! tak… Whoever you are, I give it especi… So long!—And I hope we shall meet…
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;
Always our old feuillage! Always Florida’s green peninsula—… Louisiana—always the cotton-fields… Always California’s golden hills… of New Mexico—always soft-breath’…
(Written in Platte Canyon, Color… Spirit that form’d this scene, These tumbled rock-piles grim and… These reckless heaven-ambitious pe… These gorges, turbulent-clear stre…
For him I sing, I raise the present on the past, (As some perennial tree out of its… With time and space I him dilate… To make himself by them the law un…