#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
I am of old and young, of the fool… Regardless of others, ever regardf… Maternal as well as paternal, a ch… Stuff’d with the stuff that is coa… One of the Nation of many nations…
A voice from Death, solemn and st… With sudden, indescribable blow—to… thousands slain, The vaunted work of thrift, goods,… Dash’d pell-mell by the blow—yet u…
Earth, my likeness, Though you look so impassive, ampl… I now suspect that is not all; I now suspect there is something f… For an athlete is enamour’d of me,…
Sounds of the winter too, Sunshine upon the mountains—many a… From cheery railroad train—from ne… The whispering air—even the mute c… Children’s and women’s tones—rhyth…
I believe a leaf of grass is no le… And the pismire is equally perfect… And the tree-toad is a chef-d’oeuv… And the running blackberry would a… And the narrowest hinge in my hand…
I met a seer, Passing the hues and objects of th… The fields of art and learning, pl… To glean eidolons. Put in thy chants said he,
This is thy hour O Soul, thy free… Away from books, away from art, th… Thee fully forth emerging, silent,… lovest best, Night, sleep, death and the stars.
Proud music of the storm, Blast that careers so free, whistl… Strong hum of forest tree-tops—win… Personified dim shapes—you hidden… You serenades of phantoms with ins…
Years of the modern! years of the… Your horizon rises—I see it parti… I see not America only—I see not… nations preparing; I see tremendous entrances and exi…
Despairing cries float ceaselessly… The sad voice of Death—the call o… alarmed, uncertain, “This sea I am quickly to sail, c… Come tell me where I am speeding—…
This dust was once the Man, Gentle, plain, just and resolute—u… Against the foulest crime in histo… Was saved the Union of These Sta…
Enough! enough! enough! Somehow I have been stunn’d. Stan… Give me a little time beyond my cu… I discover myself on the verge of… That I could forget the mockers a…
With music strong I come, with my… I play not marches for accepted vi… Have you heard that it was good to… I also say it is good to fall, bat… I beat and pound for the dead,
Out of the cradle endlessly rockin… Out of the mocking-bird’s throat,… Out of the Ninth-month midnight, Over the sterile sands and the fie… bed wander’d alone, bareheaded, ba…
As I ebb’d with the ocean of life… As I wended the shores I know, As I walk’d where the ripples con… Where they rustle up hoarse and si… Where the fierce old mother endles…