Whitman's Leaves of Grass: Style and Subject Matter with Special Reference to Democratic Vistas

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Konigsberg Press, 1914 - Всего страниц: 69
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This pamphlet provides a thoughtful analysis of Whitman's most famous collection of poetry, Leaves of Grass, in addition to portions of his Democratic Vistas.

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Стр. 45 - Loud! loud! loud! Loud I call to you, my love! High and clear I shoot my voice over the waves, Surely you must know who is here, is here, You must know who I am, my love.
Стр. 39 - THREE years she grew in sun and shower, Then Nature said, 'A lovelier flower On earth was never sown ! This child I to myself will take ; She shall be mine, and I will make A lady of my own. 'Myself will to my darling be Both law and impulse ; and with me The girl, in rock and plain, In earth and heaven, in glade and bower, Shall feel an overseeing power To kindle or restrain.
Стр. 40 - For all sweet sounds and harmonies; oh! then, If solitude, or fear, or pain, or grief, Should be thy portion, with what healing thoughts Of tender joy wilt thou remember me...
Стр. 39 - 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. 45 - tis not the Present only, The Past is also stored in thee, Thou boldest 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...
Стр. 61 - SKIRTING the river road, (my forenoon walk, my rest,) Skyward in air a sudden muffled sound, the dalliance of the eagles, The rushing amorous contact high in space together, The clinching interlocking claws, a living, fierce, gyrating wheel, Four beating wings, two beaks, a swirling mass tight grappling, In tumbling turning clustering loops, straight downward falling, Till o'er the river pois'd, the twain yet one, a moment's lull, A motionless still balance in the air, then parting, talons loosing,...
Стр. 65 - But edging near as privately for me rustling at my feet, Creeping thence steadily up to my ears and laving me softly all over, Death, death, death, death, death.
Стр. 5 - It may be safely affirmed that there neither is, nor can be, any essential difference between the language of prose and metrical composition.
Стр. 44 - 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.
Стр. 27 - OF THE TERRIBLE DOUBT OF APPEARANCES. OF the terrible doubt of appearances, Of the uncertainty after all, that we may be deluded, That may-be reliance and hope are but speculations after all, That may-be identity beyond the grave is a beautiful fable only, May-be the things I perceive, the animals, plants, men, hills, shining and flowing waters, The skies of day and night, colors, densities, forms, may-be these are (as doubtless they are) only apparitions, and the real something has yet to be known...

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