Leaves of GrassCopy is in a slip case, book has no covers. Inscribed "Transferred to the dear Graingers, in deep appreciation, from their friend Edith Simonds, April 1915, New York." |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 54
Page 8
... SOUNDS TO THE SUNSET BREEZE OLD CHANTS A CHRISTMAS GREETING SOUNDS OF THE WINTER A TWILIGHT SONG OSCEOLA 413 413 414 414 415 415 416 WHEN THE FULL - GROWN POET CAME A VOICE FROM DEATH A PERSIAN LESSON THE COMMONPLACE 416 417 417 418 419 ...
... SOUNDS TO THE SUNSET BREEZE OLD CHANTS A CHRISTMAS GREETING SOUNDS OF THE WINTER A TWILIGHT SONG OSCEOLA 413 413 414 414 415 415 416 WHEN THE FULL - GROWN POET CAME A VOICE FROM DEATH A PERSIAN LESSON THE COMMONPLACE 416 417 417 418 419 ...
Page 27
... sounds of rain and winds , calls as of birds and animals in the woods , syllabled to us for names , Okonee , Koosa , Ottawa , Monongahela , Sauk , Natchez , Chatta- hoochee , Kaqueta , Oronoco , Wabash , Miami , Saginaw , Chippewa ...
... sounds of rain and winds , calls as of birds and animals in the woods , syllabled to us for names , Okonee , Koosa , Ottawa , Monongahela , Sauk , Natchez , Chatta- hoochee , Kaqueta , Oronoco , Wabash , Miami , Saginaw , Chippewa ...
Page 30
... sound of the belch'd words of my voice loos'd to the eddies of the wind , A few light kisses , a few embraces , a reaching around of arms , The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag , The delight alone or in the ...
... sound of the belch'd words of my voice loos'd to the eddies of the wind , A few light kisses , a few embraces , a reaching around of arms , The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag , The delight alone or in the ...
Page 38
... sounds it down to me like an invitation , The pert may suppose it meaningless , but I listening close , Find its purpose and place up there toward the wintry sky % The sharp - hoof'd moose of the north , the 38 LEAVES OF Grass .
... sounds it down to me like an invitation , The pert may suppose it meaningless , but I listening close , Find its purpose and place up there toward the wintry sky % The sharp - hoof'd moose of the north , the 38 LEAVES OF Grass .
Page 44
... sound , To me the converging objects of the universe perpetually flow , All are written to me , and I must get what the writing means . I know I am deathless , I know this orbit of mine cannot be swept by a carpenter's compass , I know ...
... sound , To me the converging objects of the universe perpetually flow , All are written to me , and I must get what the writing means . I know I am deathless , I know this orbit of mine cannot be swept by a carpenter's compass , I know ...
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Common terms and phrases
America amid arms Assyria bards beautiful behold blood body breast breath calm chant clouds comrades Corybantian dance crowd dark dead dear death debouch divine dream drums earth eidolons eyes face fields fill'd forever give globe grass hand Haply hear heart heroes immortal Journeyers Kanada land leaves Leaves of Grass light living LONG AMERICA look look'd lovers Manhattan moon mother never night o'er parturition pass pass'd Passage to India passionate past peace pennant perfect phrenology Pioneers poems poets prairies race rest rise river round sail shape ship shore silent silent sun sing singers skald sleep soldiers song soul sound spirit stand stars strain musical strong superbest sweet thee things thou thought to-day trees vast voice wait walk Walt Whitman waters waves wending wind woman women woods words young
Popular passages
Page 45 - I exist as I am, that is enough, If no other in the world be aware I sit content, And if each and all be aware I sit content. One world is aware and by far the largest to me, and that is myself, And whether I come to my own to-day or in ten thousand or ten million years, I can cheerfully take it now, or with equal cheerfulness I can wait. My foothold is tenon'd and mortis'd in granite, I laugh at what you call dissolution, And I know the amplitude of time.
Page 76 - I have said that the soul is not more than the body, And I have said that the body is not more than the soul, And nothing, not God, is greater to one than one's self is, And whoever walks a furlong without sympathy walks to his own funeral drest in his shroud...
Page 45 - I am the poet of the woman the same as the man, And I say it is as great to be a woman as to be a man, And I say there is nothing greater than the mother of men.
Page 255 - In the dooryard fronting an old farm-house near the white-wash'd palings, Stands the lilac-bush tall-growing with heart-shaped leaves of rich green, With many a pointed blossom rising delicate, with the perfume strong I love, With every leaf a miracle - and from this bush in the dooryard, With delicate-color'd blossoms and heart-shaped leaves of rich green, A sprig with its flower I break.
Page 198 - Soothe! soothe! soothe! Close on its wave soothes the wave behind, And again another behind embracing and lapping, every one close; But my love soothes not me, not me. Low hangs the moon, it rose late, It is lagging — OI think it is heavy with love} with love.
Page 17 - ... 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 ploughboy's on his way in the morning, or at noon intermission or at sundown, The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of the girl sewing or washing, Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else...
Page 259 - Limitless out of the dusk, out of the cedars and pines. Sing on dearest brother, warble your reedy song, Loud human song, with voice of uttermost woe.
Page 34 - What do you think has become of the young and old men? And what do you think has become of the women and children? They are alive and well somewhere, The smallest sprout shows there is really no death...
Page 77 - Perhaps I might tell more. Outlines ! I plead for my brothers and sisters. Do you see O my brothers and sisters? It is not chaos or death — it is form, union, plan — it is eternal life — it is Happiness.
Page 261 - From me to thee glad serenades, Dances for thee I propose saluting thee, adornments and feastings for thee, And the sights of the open landscape and the high-spread sky are fitting, And life and the fields, and the huge and thoughtful night. The night in silence under many a star, The ocean shore and the husky whispering wave whose voice I know, And the soul turning to thee O vast and well-veil'd death, And the body gratefully nestling close to thee.