#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass
SOLID, ironical, rolling orb! Master of all, and matter of fact!… terms; Bringing to practical, vulgar test… dreams,
Arm’d year—year of the struggle, No dainty rhymes or sentimental lo… Not you as some pale poetling seat… But as a strong man erect, clothed… rifle on your shoulder,
To-day a rude brief recitative, Of ships sailing the seas, each wi… Of unnamed heroes in the ships—of… as the eye can reach, Of dashing spray, and the winds pi…
(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…
The pure contralto sings in the or… The carpenter dresses his plank, t… The married and unmarried children… The pilot seizes the king-pin, he… The mate stands braced in the whal…
The soft voluptuous opiate shades, The sun just gone, the eager light… dispell’d,) A haze—nirwana—rest and night—obli…
A noiseless patient spider, I mark’d where on a little promont… Mark’d how to explore the vacant v… It launch’d forth filament, filame… Ever unreeling them, ever tireless…
To the East and to the West; To the man of the Seaside State,… To the Kanadian of the North—to t… These, with perfect trust, to depi… all men;
With antecedents, With my fathers and mothers and th… With all which, had it not been,… With Egypt, India, Phenicia, Gre… With the Kelt, the Scandinavian,…
Of these years I sing, How they pass and have pass’d thro… parturitions, How America illustrates birth, mu… fulfilment, the absolute success,…
Space and Time! now I see it is t… What I guess’d when I loaf’d on t… What I guess’d while I lay alone… And again as I walk’d the beach u… My ties and ballasts leave me, my…
For his o’erarching and last lesso… In the fresh scent of the morning… On the slope of a teeming Persian… Under an ancient chestnut-tree wid… Spoke to the young priests and stu…
When the full-grown poet came, Out spake pleased Nature (the rou… of day and night,) saying, He is m… But out spake too the Soul of man… Nay he is mine alone;
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.
Brave, brave were the soldiers (hi… the fight; But the bravest press’d to the fro…