Leaves of GrassD. McKay, 1900 - 486 Seiten |
Im Buch
Seite 84
... My feet strike an apex of the apices of the stairs ; On every step bunches of ages , and larger bunches between the steps ; All below duly travel'd , and still I mount and mount . Rise after rise bow the phantoms behind me ; Afar down I ...
... My feet strike an apex of the apices of the stairs ; On every step bunches of ages , and larger bunches between the steps ; All below duly travel'd , and still I mount and mount . Rise after rise bow the phantoms behind me ; Afar down I ...
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Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
1856 under title 56 read 60 read added in Songs America amid arms bards beautiful behold blood body breast breath chant comrades crowd dark dead dear death divine dream Drum earth Eidolons eyes face fill'd forever give grass hand head hear henceforth immortal islands Journeyers Kanada land leaves LEAVES OF GRASS Lilacs living look look'd lovers Manhattan Mannahatta mother mountains never night pass pass'd Passage to India peace perfect persons phrenology Pioneers poets published in 1860 published in Drum-Taps race rest rise river sail shapes arise ships shore silent sing sleep soldiers Soul sound stand stars strong swear sweet thee things thou thought to-day trees voice Wacho wait walk Walt Whitman waves whoever wind woman women woods words young ΙΟ
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 65 - I stand and look at them long and long. They do not sweat and whine about their condition, They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God, Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things, Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago, Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth.
Seite 94 - Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.) I concentrate toward them that are nigh, I wait on the doorslab.
Seite 37 - A child said What is the grass ? fetching it to me with full hands ; How could I answer the child ? I do not know what it is any more than he. I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.
Seite 13 - One's-Self I sing, a simple separate person, Yet utter the word Democratic, the word En-Masse. Of physiology from top to toe I sing: Not physiognomy alone nor brain alone is worthy for the Muse; I say the Form complete is worthier far. The Female equally with the Male I sing. 5 Of Life immense in passion, pulse, and power, Cheerful, for freest action form'd under the laws divine, The Modern Man I sing.
Seite 198 - I HEAR America singing, the varied carols I hear, Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong, The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam, The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work, The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck, The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands, The wood-cutter's song, the...
Seite 370 - States themselves as of crape-veil'd women standing, With processions long and winding and the flambeaus of the night, With the countless torches lit, with the silent sea of faces and the unbared heads, With the waiting depot, the arriving coffin, and the...
Seite 374 - Then with the knowledge of death as walking one side of me, And the thought of death close-walking the other side of me, And I in the middle as with companions, and as holding the hands of companions, I fled forth to the hiding receiving night that talks not, Down to the shores of the water, the path by the swamp in the dimness, To the solemn shadow cedars and ghostly pines so still.
Seite 237 - There was a child went forth every day, And the first object he look'd upon, that object he became, And that object became part of him for the day or a certain part of the day, Or for many years or stretching cycles of years.
Seite 132 - I SAW in Louisiana a live-oak growing, All alone stood it and the moss hung down from the branches, Without any companion it grew there uttering joyous leaves of dark green, And its look, rude, unbending, lusty, made me think of myself, But I wonder'd how it could utter joyous leaves standing alone there without its friend near, for I knew I could not...
Seite 93 - And as to you Corpse I think you are good manure, but that does not offend me, I smell the white roses sweet-scented and growing, I reach to the leafy lips, I reach to the polish'd breasts of melons.