#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
From far Dakota’s canyons, Lands of the wild ravine, the dusk… Haply to-day a mournful wall, hapl… The battle-bulletin, The Indian ambuscade, the craft,…
Of him I love day and night I dre… And I dream’d I went where they h… in that place, And I dream’d I wander’d searchin… And I found that every place was…
Myself and mine gymnastic ever, To stand the cold or heat, to take… manage horses, to beget superb chi… To speak readily and clearly, to f… And to hold our own in terrible po…
Lo! THE unbounded sea! On its breast a Ship, spreading a… Ship, carrying even her moonsails; The pennant is flying aloft, as sh… speeds so stately—below, emulous w…
I need no assurances, I am a man… I do not doubt that from under the… am cognizant of, are now looking f… and actual faces, I do not doubt but the majesty and…
O living always, always dying! O the burials of me past and prese… O me while I stride ahead, materi… O me, what I was for years, now d… O to disengage myself from those c…
O TO make the most jubilant poem! Even to set off these, and merge w… O full of music! full of manhood,… Full of common employments! full o… O for the voices of animals! O fo…
Manhattan’s streets I saunter’d p… On Time, Space, Reality—on such… Prudence. The last explanation always remain… immortality.
The prairie-grass dividing—its spe… I demand of it the spiritual corre… Demand the most copious and close… Demand the blades to rise of words… Those of the open atmosphere, coar…
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.
Trickle drops! my blue veins leavi… O drops of me! trickle, slow drops… Candid from me falling, drip, blee… From wounds made to free you whenc… From my face, from my forehead and…
I sit and look out upon all the so… oppression and shame; I hear secret convulsive sobs from… themselves, remorseful after deeds… I see, in low life, the mother mis…
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…
(Volunteer of 1861-2, at Washingt… Centenarian.) Give me your hand old Revolutiona… The hill-top is nigh, but a few st… Up the path you have follow’d me w…
Thick-sprinkled bunting! flag of s… Long yet your road, fateful flag—l… bloody death, For the prize I see at issue at l… All its ships and shores I see in…