Leaves of GrassD. McKay, 1883 - Всего страниц: 382 |
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Стр. 43
... touch of my lips to yours , this the murmur of yearning , This the far - off depth and height reflecting my own face , This the thoughtful merge of myself , and the outlet again .. Do you guess I have some intricate purpose ? Well SONG ...
... touch of my lips to yours , this the murmur of yearning , This the far - off depth and height reflecting my own face , This the thoughtful merge of myself , and the outlet again .. Do you guess I have some intricate purpose ? Well SONG ...
Стр. 49
... touch or am touch'd from , The scent of these arm - pits aroma finer than prayer , This head more than churches , bibles , and all the creeds . If I worship one thing more than another it shall be the spread of my own body , or any part ...
... touch or am touch'd from , The scent of these arm - pits aroma finer than prayer , This head more than churches , bibles , and all the creeds . If I worship one thing more than another it shall be the spread of my own body , or any part ...
Стр. 52
... touch my person to some one else's is about as much as I can stand . 28 Is this then a touch ? quivering me to a new identity , Flames and ether making a rush for my veins , Treacherous tip of me reaching and crowding to help them , My ...
... touch my person to some one else's is about as much as I can stand . 28 Is this then a touch ? quivering me to a new identity , Flames and ether making a rush for my veins , Treacherous tip of me reaching and crowding to help them , My ...
Стр. 53
... touch ! what are you doing ? my breath is tight in its throat , Unclench your floodgates , you are too much for me . 29 Blind loving wrestling touch , sheath'd hooded sharp - tooth'd touch ! Did it make you ache so , leaving me ...
... touch ! what are you doing ? my breath is tight in its throat , Unclench your floodgates , you are too much for me . 29 Blind loving wrestling touch , sheath'd hooded sharp - tooth'd touch ! Did it make you ache so , leaving me ...
Стр. 62
... touch'd , My captain lash'd fast with his own hands . We had receiv'd some eighteen pound shots under the water , On our lower - gun - deck two large pieces had burst at the first fire , killing all around and blowing up overhead ...
... touch'd , My captain lash'd fast with his own hands . We had receiv'd some eighteen pound shots under the water , On our lower - gun - deck two large pieces had burst at the first fire , killing all around and blowing up overhead ...
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Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
America amid arms Assyria beautiful behold blood blow blue-fish body breast breath CALIFORNIA song calm chant clouds comrades crowd dark dead dear death debouch divine Dondra head dream earth eidolons eyes face fill'd float forever give grass hand head hear heard heart henceforth hold immortal Journeyers Kanada land leaves LEAVES of GRASS Libertad light living LONG AMERICA look look'd lovers maize Manhattan moon mother mountains never night old cause pass pass'd Passage to India peace pennant perfect persons Pioneers poems poet post-and-rail fences race rest rise river sail shape ship shore silent sing singers skald sleep soldiers songs soul sound spirit stand stars Strains musical strong sweet thee things thou thought to-day trees voice wait walk Walt Whitman waves whoever wild wind woman women woods words young
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Стр. 68 - 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 door-slab.
Стр. 67 - 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.
Стр. 19 - I celebrate myself, and sing myself, And what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you. I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
Стр. 246 - The hermit withdrawn to himself, avoiding the settlements, Sings by himself a song. Song of the bleeding throat, Death's outlet song of life, (for well, dear brother, I know, If thou wast not granted to sing, thou woulds't surely die).
Стр. 23 - Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of the vegetation. Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic, And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones, Growing among black folks as among white, Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same, I receive them the same. And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves...
Стр. 186 - Ninth-month midnight, Over the sterile sands and the fields beyond, where the child leaving his bed wander'd alone, bareheaded, barefoot, Down from the shower'd halo, ' Up from the mystic play of shadows twining and twisting as if they were alive, Out from the patches of briers and blackberries, From the memories of the bird that chanted to me, From your memories sad brother, from the fitful risings and fallings I heard, From under that yellow half-moon late-risen and swollen as if with tears, From...
Стр. 50 - Agonies are one of my changes of garments, I do not ask the wounded person how he feels, I myself become the wounded person, My hurts turn livid upon me as I lean on a cane and observe.
Стр. 250 - 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 shadowy cedars, and ghostly pines so still.
Стр. 246 - In the dooryard fronting an old farm-house near the whitewash'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.