Walt Whitman: The Poet of the Wider SelfhoodC. H. Kerr, 1902 - Всего страниц: 145 |
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Стр. 24
... Tender as he is of all men , even the dullest and the most shallow , he yet challenges them to arouse out of such death in life and learn to live in real things . He finds many walking about with the dimes of death on the eyelids ...
... Tender as he is of all men , even the dullest and the most shallow , he yet challenges them to arouse out of such death in life and learn to live in real things . He finds many walking about with the dimes of death on the eyelids ...
Стр. 71
... " I am not afraid to leave you - yet I love you . " This reverence for the past , although he does not hesitate to defy its dictates , is character- istic of Whitman always . Tender of old cus- toms The Larger Woman 71.
... " I am not afraid to leave you - yet I love you . " This reverence for the past , although he does not hesitate to defy its dictates , is character- istic of Whitman always . Tender of old cus- toms The Larger Woman 71.
Стр. 72
The Poet of the Wider Selfhood Mila Tupper Maynard. istic of Whitman always . Tender of old cus- toms which were needed , reverential of prece- dent and appreciative of established beauty he yet must make his own advance in his own way ...
The Poet of the Wider Selfhood Mila Tupper Maynard. istic of Whitman always . Tender of old cus- toms which were needed , reverential of prece- dent and appreciative of established beauty he yet must make his own advance in his own way ...
Стр. 102
... tender and growing night ; I call to the earth and sea , half held by the Night . Press close , bare - bosomed Night ! Press close , magnetic , nourishing Night ! Night of the south winds ! Night of the large few stars ! Still , nodding ...
... tender and growing night ; I call to the earth and sea , half held by the Night . Press close , bare - bosomed Night ! Press close , magnetic , nourishing Night ! Night of the south winds ! Night of the large few stars ! Still , nodding ...
Стр. 105
... tender voices , memory's loving voices Last miracle of all , O dearest mother's , sister's voices ) . The rain , the growing corn , the breeze among the long- leav'd corn , The measur'd sea - surf beating on the sand , The twittering ...
... tender voices , memory's loving voices Last miracle of all , O dearest mother's , sister's voices ) . The rain , the growing corn , the breeze among the long- leav'd corn , The measur'd sea - surf beating on the sand , The twittering ...
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Walt Whitman: The Poet of the Wider Selfhood - Scholar's Choice Edition Mila Tupper Maynard Недоступно для просмотра - 2015 |
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Addington adora adoration affirms akin America appreciation attitude beauty believe body breath brood Brooklyn bugle bugle call Burroughs calm centuries character comradeship conception Copernican Copious cosmic courage death delight democracy divine doubt enter equal eternal evolution exalted exquisite face faith feels forever freedom friends future give glory Goethe hear human soul hymns ideal immortality incarnation individual lands Leaves of Grass liberty lilac live love of comrades lovers manhood manly mighty mother nature ness never night noble old age passion past pathy perfect person Pioneers poems poet poet's potency prophetic race reality sacred sail Shapes sing soldiers Song soul spirit spontaneity star strong superbest Symonds sympathy tender thee theism theory things Thou thought thrush tion truth Unfolded unity universe University of California vast vidual vigorous voice waits walk Walt Whitman woman womanhood women youth
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Стр. 99 - 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.
Стр. 84 - 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.
Стр. 107 - With the tolling tolling bells' perpetual clang, Here, coffin that slowly passes, I give you my sprig of lilac. 7 (Nor for you, for one alone, Blossoms and branches green to coffins all I bring, For fresh as the morning, thus would I chant a song for you O sane and sacred death. All over bouquets of roses, O death, I cover you over with roses and early lilies...
Стр. 140 - COME my tan-faced children, Follow well in order, get your weapons ready, Have you your pistols? have you your sharp-edged axes? Pioneers! O pioneers! For we cannot tarry here, We must march my darlings, we must bear the brunt of danger, We the youthful sinewy races, all the rest on us depend, Pioneers!
Стр. 34 - Rise after rise bow the phantoms behind me, Afar down I see the huge first Nothing, I know I was even there, I waited unseen and always, and slept through the lethargic mist, And took my time, and took no hurt from the fetid carbon.
Стр. 135 - Come, I will make the continent indissoluble, I will make the most splendid race the sun ever shone upon, I will make divine magnetic lands, With the love of comrades, With the life-long love of comrades. I will plant companionship thick as trees along all the rivers of America, and along the shores of the great lakes, and all over the prairies, I will make inseparable cities with their arms about each other's necks, By the love of comrades, By the manly love of comrades.
Стр. 127 - tis not the Present only, The Past is also stored in thee, Thou holdest not the venture of thyself alone, not of the Western continent alone, Earth's resume entire floats on thy keel O ship, is steadied by thy spars, With thee Time voyages in trust, the antecedent nations sink or swim with thee, With all their ancient struggles, martyrs, heroes, epics, wars, thou bear'st the other continents, Theirs, theirs as much as thine, the destination-port triumphant ; Steer then with good strong hand and wary...
Стр. 116 - When liberty goes out of a place it is not the first to go, nor the second or third to go, It waits for all the rest to go, it is the last.
Стр. 68 - 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.
Стр. 27 - This day before dawn I ascended a hill and look'd at the crowded heaven, And I said to my spirit When we become the enfolders of those orbs, and the pleasure and knowledge of every thing in them, shall we be fill'd and satisfied then? And my spirit said No, we but level that lift to pass and continue beyond.