#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
Nor alone those camps of white, ol… When as order’d forward, after a l… Footsore and weary, soon as the li… Some of us so fatigued carrying th… in our tracks,
As they draw to a close, Of what underlies the precedent so… Of the seed I have sought to plan… Of joy, sweet joy, through many a… (For them, for them have I lived,…
37 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…
OR, from that Sea of Time, Spray, blown by the wind—a double… (O little shells, so curious-convo… Yet will you not, to the tympans o… Murmurs and echoes still bring up—…
As at thy portals also death, Entering thy sovereign, dim, illim… To memories of my mother, to the d… To her, buried and gone, yet burie… (I see again the calm benignant fa…
Alone far in the wilds and mountai… Wandering amazed at my own lightne… In the late afternoon choosing a s… Kindling a fire and broiling the f… Falling asleep on the gather’d lea…
Lo! The unbounded sea! On its breast a Ship starting, sp… Ship, carrying even her moonsails; The pennant is flying aloft, as sh… below, emulous waves press forward…
I saw in Louisiana a live-oak gro… All alone stood it and the moss hu… Without any companion it grew ther… And its look, rude, unbending, lus… But I wonder’d how it could utter…
O take my hand, Walt Whitman! Such gliding wonders! such sights… Such join’d unended links, each ho… Each answering all—each sharing th… What widens within you, Walt Whit…
As consequent from store of summer… Or wayward rivulets in autumn flow… Or many a herb—lined brook’s retic… Or subterranean sea—rills making f… Songs of continued years I sing.
Are you the new person drawn towar… To begin with take warning, I am… Do you suppose you will find in me… Do you think it so easy to have me… Do you think the friendship me wou…
Have I no weapon-word for thee—so… (Have I fought out and done indee… For all thy affectations, lisps, s… Nor for myself—my own rebellious s… Down, down, proud gorge!—though ch…
Not heaving from my ribb’d breast… Not in sighs at night, in rage, di… Not in those long-drawn, ill-suppr… Not in many an oath and promise br… Not in my wilful and savage soul’s…
Good-bye my Fancy! Farewell dear mate, dear love! I’m going away, I know not where, Or to what fortune, or whether I… So Good-bye my Fancy.
The place where a great city stand… Nor the place of ceaseless salutes… Nor the place of the tallest and c… Nor the place of the best librarie… Nor the place of the most numerous…