#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
Native moments—when you come upon… Give me now libidinous joys only, Give me the drench of my passions,… To-day I go consort with Nature’s… I am for those who believe in loos…
Good-bye my fancy—(I had a word t… But ’tis not quite the time—The b… Is when its proper place arrives—a… I keep mine till the last.)
You sea! I resign myself to you a… I behold from the beach your crook… I believe you refuse to go back wi… We must have a turn together, I u… Cushion me soft, rock me in billow…
The butcher-boy puts off his killi… I loiter enjoying his repartee and… Blacksmiths with grimed and hairy… Each has his main-sledge, they are… From the cinder-strew’d threshold…
A song, a poem of itself—the word… Amid the wilds, the rocks, the sto… To me such misty, strange tableaux… Yonnondio— I see, far in the west or north, a…
Thou reader throbbest life and pri… Therefore for thee the following c…
Who includes diversity and is Nat… Who is the amplitude of the earth,… the earth, and the great charity o… Who has not look’d forth from the… whose brain held audience with mes…
City of orgies, walks and joys! City whom that I have lived and s… you illustrious, Not the pageants of you—not your s… repay me;
O me, man of slack faith so long, Standing aloof, denying portions s… Only aware to-day of compact all-d… Discovering to-day there is no lie… grows as inevitably upon itself as…
Two boats with nets lying off the… Ten fishermen waiting—they discove… they drop the join’d seine—ends in… The boats separate and row off, ea… beach, enclosing the mossbonkers,
A child said What is the grass? f… How could I answer the child? I d… I guess it must be the flag of my… Or I guess it is the handkerchief… A scented gift and remembrancer de…
Not youth pertains to me, Nor delicatesse, I cannot beguile… Awkward in the parlor, neither a d… In the learn’d coterie sitting con… to me,
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,…
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—…
By broad Potomac’s shore, again o… (Still uttering, still ejaculating… Again old heart so gay, again to y… returning, Again the freshness and the odors,…