#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
1 AS nearing departure, As the time draws nigh, glooming,… A dread beyond, of I know not wha… 2 I shall go forth, I shall traverse The States—but…
Women sit or move to and fro, some… The young are beautiful—but the ol…
That which eludes this verse and a… Unheard by sharpest ear, unform’d… Nor lore nor fame, nor happiness n… And yet the pulse of every heart a… Which you and I and all pursuing…
Not meagre, latent boughs alone,… talons,) But haply for some sunny day (who… summer—bursting forth, To verdant leaves, or sheltering s…
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…
Is reform needed? Is it through y… The greater the reform needed, the… to accomplish it. You! do you not see how it would s… complexion, clean and sweet?
O A new song, a free song, Flapping, flapping, flapping, flap… By the wind’s voice and that of th… By the banner’s voice and child’s… Low on the ground and high in the…
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!)
Now precedent songs, farewell—by e… (Trains of a staggering line in ma… From ups and downs—with intervals—… “In Cabin’d Ships, or Thee Old… Or Paumanok, Song of Myself, Cal…
Nations ten thousand years before… thousand years before these States… Garner’d clusters of ages that men… and travel’d their course and pass… What vast-built cities, what order…
Not from successful love alone, Nor wealth, nor honor’d middle age… But as life wanes, and all the tur… As gorgeous, vapory, silent hues c… As softness, fulness, rest, suffus…
City of ships! (O the black ships! O the fierce… O the beautiful sharp-bow’d steam-… City of the world! (for all races… All the lands of the earth make co…
As I ponder’d in silence, Returning upon my poems, consideri… A Phantom arose before me, with d… Terrible in beauty, age, and power… The genius of poets of old lands,
Over the Western sea hither from… Courteous, the swart-cheek’d two-s… Leaning back in their open barouch… Ride to-day through Manhattan. Libertad! I do not know whether o…
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.