Song of Myself, by Walt Whitman
1 I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And...
1 I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And...
"The Bull, the Fleece are cramm'd, and not a ...
Conon, who hath observed the mighty skies,
W...
Fish "So..." they said,
With their wine-glas...
Dear Virgin Mary, far away,
Look down from H...
THE Saviour looked on Peter. Ay, no word--
No...
Full wealth of pleasing sights
October brings ...
Fair is the sky, for the cloud-rack is lifted-...
Come on then, ye, dwellers by Nature in darkn...
Thy peerless glory, gentle orb! I sing,
Enam...
Now comes the sudden summer,
The beautiful fi...
The new owners call them
virgin--their four ac...
Where's nature's breast with anguish riven,
U...
The hazel tips that yellow in the light
Along ...
There is a courage, a majestic thing
That spr...
As a life-weary pilgrim sinks to his last repos...
Here in my Northern home I love to muse,
Fair...
The generous autumn days are come,
The merrie...
Slow pass'd the sultry days in Afric wilds,
S...
The brown chickadee still chirps on the tree,
...
October's flaming banners, of purple and of go...
You know, my dear Sancho, the shooting is o'e...
O'er the fair face of Nature let us muse,
And...
We cross'd a brawling mountain torrent, far
F...
When the glory of sunset fades in the skies
As...