Leaves of Grass (Google eBook)

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D. McKay, 1900 - American poetry - 516 pages
615 Reviews
  

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5 stars
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4 stars
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2 stars
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Wonderful, vivid imagery. - Goodreads
Very difficult to read. - Goodreads
I love prose, and I love epic poems. - Goodreads
A love story with life, self, humankind, war, peace. - Goodreads
Read some poems for a research paper, enjoyed them. - Goodreads
Clean writing with beautiful cadence. - Goodreads

Review: Leaves of Grass

User Review  - Kristine - Goodreads

Some books or poems captivate you at a certain point in your life, then seem silly or trite or passé when you return to them later. Whitman resonates with greater truth and deeper insights every time I read him... my touchstone, my bible, my stranded on a deserted island book. Read full review

Review: Leaves of Grass

User Review  - Kitten - Goodreads

uggg.. going to go read Emily. That's poetry, not this crap. Read full review

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Page 92 - 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 doorslab.
Page 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.
Page 35 - Swiftly arose and spread around me the peace and knowledge that pass all the argument of the earth, And I know that the hand of God is the promise of my own, And I know that the spirit of God is the brother of my own, And that all the men ever born are also my brothers, and the women my sisters and lovers, And that a kelson of the creation is love...
Page 375 - O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! 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. O Captain ! my Captain...
Page 235 - 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.
Page 196 - I HEAR America singing, the varied carols I hear, Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong, The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam, The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work, The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck, The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands, The wood-cutter's song, the...
Page 368 - States themselves as of crape-veil'd women standing, With processions long and winding and the flambeaus of the night, With the countless torches lit, with the silent sea of faces and the unbared heads, With the waiting depot, the arriving coffin, and the...
Page 85 - Cycles ferried my cradle, rowing and rowing like cheerful boatmen, For room to me stars kept aside in their own rings, They sent influences to look after what was to hold me. Before I was born out of my mother generations guided me, My embryo has never been torpid, nothing could overlay it. For it the nebula cohered to an orb, The long slow strata piled to rest it on, Vast vegetables gave it sustenance, Monstrous sauroids transported it in their mouths and deposited it with care. \ All forces have...
Page 92 - Perhaps I might tell more. Outlines ! I plead for my brothers and sisters. Do you see O my brothers and sisters? It is not chaos or death — it is form, union, plan — it is eternal life — it is Happiness.
Page 375 - Passing, I leave thee lilac with heart-shaped leaves, I leave thee there in the door-yard, blooming, returning with spring.

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