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Leaves of grass. (1861-1861)
Whitman, Walt (1819-1892)
[section]
Proto-Leaf.
WALT WHITMAN.
CHANTS DEMOCRATIC AND NATIVE AMERICAN.
Leaves of Grass.
Salut au Monde!
Poem of Joys.
A WORD OUT OF THE SEA.
REMINISCENCE.
LEAF OF FACES.
EUROPE, The 72d and 73d Years of These States.
THOUGHT.
Enfans d' Adam.
POEM OF THE ROAD.
TO THE SAYERS OF WORDS.
A BOSTON BALLAD, The 78th Year of These States.
CALAMUS.
CROSSING BROOKLYN FERRY.
LONGINGS FOR HOME.
MESSENGER LEAVES.
MANNAHATTA.
FRANCE, The 18th Year of These States.
THOUGHTS.
UNNAMED LANDS.
KOSMOS.
A HAND-MIRROR.
BEGINNERS.
TESTS.
SAVANTISM.
PERFECTIONS.
SAYS.
DEBRIS.
[He is wisest who has the most caution]
[Any thing is as good as established, when that is established that will produce it and continue it]
[What General has a good army in himself, has a good army]
[Have you learned lessons only of those who admired you, and were tender with you, and stood aside for you?]
[Despairing cries float ceaselessly toward me, day and night]
[I understand your anguish, but I cannot help you]
[A thousand perfect men and women appear]
[A mask—a perpetual natural disguiser of herself]
[One sweeps by, attended by an immense train]
[One sweeps by, old, with black eyes, and profuse white hair]
[Three old men slowly pass, followed by three others, and they by three others]
[Women sit, or move to and fro—some old, some young]
[What weeping face is that looking from the window?]
[I will take an egg out of the robin's nest in the orchard]
[Behavior—fresh, native, copious, each one for himself or herself]
[Not the pilot has charged himself to bring his ship into port, though beaten back, and many times baffled]
[I thought I was not alone, walking here by the shore]
SLEEP-CHASINGS.
BURIAL.
TO MY SOUL.
So long!
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Leaves of grass. (1861-1861)
277.
A call in the midst of the crowd,
My own voice, orotund, sweeping, final.
Leaves of grass. (1861-1861)
