Leaves of Grass: Including Sands at Seventy, Good-bye My Fancy, Old Age Echoes, and A Backward Glance O'er Travel'd RoadsSmall, Maynard, 1897 - Всего страниц: 455 |
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Стр. 29
... blood , form'd from this soil , this air , Born here of parents born here from parents the same , and their parents the same , I , now thirty - seven years old in perfect health begin , Hoping to cease not till death . Creeds and ...
... blood , form'd from this soil , this air , Born here of parents born here from parents the same , and their parents the same , I , now thirty - seven years old in perfect health begin , Hoping to cease not till death . Creeds and ...
Стр. 30
... blood and air through my lungs , The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves , and of the shore and dark - color'd sea - rocks , and of hay in the barn , The sound of the belch'd words of my voice loos'd to the eddies of the wind , A few ...
... blood and air through my lungs , The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves , and of the shore and dark - color'd sea - rocks , and of hay in the barn , The sound of the belch'd words of my voice loos'd to the eddies of the wind , A few ...
Стр. 49
... blood ! your milky stream pale strippings of my life ! Breast that presses against other breasts it shall be you ! My brain it shall be your occult convolutions ! Root of wash'd sweet - flag ! timorous pond - snipe ! nest of guarded ...
... blood ! your milky stream pale strippings of my life ! Breast that presses against other breasts it shall be you ! My brain it shall be your occult convolutions ! Root of wash'd sweet - flag ! timorous pond - snipe ! nest of guarded ...
Стр. 52
... blood playing out lightning to strike what is hardly different from myself , On all sides prurient provokers stiffening my limbs , Straining the udder of my heart for its withheld drip , Behaving licentious toward me , taking no denial ...
... blood playing out lightning to strike what is hardly different from myself , On all sides prurient provokers stiffening my limbs , Straining the udder of my heart for its withheld drip , Behaving licentious toward me , taking no denial ...
Стр. 61
... blood of four hundred and twelve young men . Retreating they had form'd in a hollow square with their baggage for breastworks , Nine hundred lives out of the surrounding enemies , nine times their number , was the price they took in ...
... blood of four hundred and twelve young men . Retreating they had form'd in a hollow square with their baggage for breastworks , Nine hundred lives out of the surrounding enemies , nine times their number , was the price they took in ...
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Leaves of Grass: Including Sands at Seventy, Good Bye My Fancy, Old Age ... Walt Whitman Полный просмотр - 1899 |
Leaves of Grass: Including Sands at Seventy, Good Bye My Fancy, Old Age ... Walt Whitman Полный просмотр - 1897 |
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
America amid arms beautiful behold blood body breast breath Brooklyn chant comrades crowd dark dead dear death debouch divine dream dropt drums earth eidolons eyes face faith fill'd forever give globe grass hand head 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 old cause pass pass'd Passage to India passions past peace pennant perfect perfume persons phrenology Pioneers poems poets prairies race rest rise river round sail shape ship shore silent silent sun sing skald sleep soldiers song soul sound spirit stand stars Strains musical strong superbest sweet thee things thou thought to-day trees vast voice wait walk Walt Whitman waves wending whoever winds woman women wonderful woods words young
Популярные отрывки
Стр. 80 - 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. 31 - I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself, And what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
Стр. 257 - WHEN lilacs last in the dooryard bloom'd, And the great star early droop'd in the western sky in the night, I mourn'd, and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
Стр. 35 - A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands, How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he. I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.
Стр. 50 - I speak the pass-word primeval, I give the sign of democracy, By God! I will accept nothing which all cannot have their counterpart of on the same terms.
Стр. 264 - O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.
Стр. 216 - WHEN I heard the learn'd astronomer, When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me. When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them, When I sitting heard the astronomer where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room, How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick, Till rising and gliding out I wander'd off by myself, In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time, Look'd up in perfect silence at the stars.
Стр. 198 - 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...
Стр. 203 - O solitary me listening, never more shall I cease perpetuating you, Never more shall I escape, never more the reverberations, Never more the cries of unsatisfied love be absent from me, Never again leave me to be the peaceful child I was before what there in the night, By the sea under the yellow and sagging moon, The messenger there arous'd, the fire, the sweet hell within, The unknown want, the destiny of me.
Стр. 258 - Amid the grass in the fields each side of the lanes, passing the endless grass, Passing the yellow-spear'd wheat, every grain from its shroud in the dark-brown fields uprisen, Passing the apple-tree blows of white and pink in the orchards, Carrying a corpse to where it shall rest in the grave, Night and day journeys a coffin.