Liberty in Literature: Testimonial to Walt WhitmanTruth seeker Company, 1891 - 77 páginas |
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Página 10
... feel immodest . To them , the most beautiful thing is hypocrisy adorned with a blush . They have no idea of an honest , pure passion , glorying in its strength - intense , intoxicated with the beautiful , giving even to inanimate things ...
... feel immodest . To them , the most beautiful thing is hypocrisy adorned with a blush . They have no idea of an honest , pure passion , glorying in its strength - intense , intoxicated with the beautiful , giving even to inanimate things ...
Página 26
... feel , that the liberty of no man is safe unless the liberty of each is safe . There is in our country a little of the old ser- vile spirit , a little of the bowing and cringing to others . Many Americans do not understand that the ...
... feel , that the liberty of no man is safe unless the liberty of each is safe . There is in our country a little of the old ser- vile spirit , a little of the bowing and cringing to others . Many Americans do not understand that the ...
Página 34
... feel the dull unintermitted pain . For me the keepers of convicts shoulder their carbines and keep watch , It is I let out in the morning and barr'd at night . Not a mutineer walks handcuff'd to jail but I am handcuff'd to him and walk ...
... feel the dull unintermitted pain . For me the keepers of convicts shoulder their carbines and keep watch , It is I let out in the morning and barr'd at night . Not a mutineer walks handcuff'd to jail but I am handcuff'd to him and walk ...
Página 36
... feel and speak . Have you ever read the ac- count of the stage - driver's funeral ? Let me read it : Cold dash of waves at the ferry - wharf , posh and ice in the river , half - frozen mud in the streets , A gray discouraged sky ...
... feel and speak . Have you ever read the ac- count of the stage - driver's funeral ? Let me read it : Cold dash of waves at the ferry - wharf , posh and ice in the river , half - frozen mud in the streets , A gray discouraged sky ...
Página 49
... feel , in spite of ourselves , that man does best that which he does easiest . The great poet is the instrumentality , not always of his time , but of the best of his time , and he must be in unison and accord with the ideals of his ...
... feel , in spite of ourselves , that man does best that which he does easiest . The great poet is the instrumentality , not always of his time , but of the best of his time , and he must be in unison and accord with the ideals of his ...
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Termos e frases comuns
50 Cents author of Leaves beauty blow brain brave CHANT FOR DEATH child Cloth colors constellations creeds Declaration of Independence delicious democracy earth everything face fall feel fields genius Gilt Top give greatest poet grey-brown bird singing grief hight human race hypocrisy ideal intel Interviews on Talmage invisible commerce Leaves of Grass Lectures liberty lilac living look marvelous mate mind Mistakes of Moses molecular movements night Octavo old age painter Paper passion perfect perfect day poems poet of Individuality poetic poetry produce pulpit R. G. Ingersoll rhyme rhythm rhythmical river ROBERT G sands sculptor Shakespeare shine silent slave slavery sorrow sounds Specimen Days Speech spirit star thing tion to-night to honor touch universe UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN uttered the elemental visible world walk Walt Whitman waves wind woman women word world of thought young person
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 53 - Why should I wish to see God better than this day? I see something of God each hour of the twenty-four, and each moment then, In the faces of men and women I see God, and in my own face in the glass...
Página 61 - Now understand me well — it is provided in the essence of things that from any fruition of success, no matter what, shall come forth something to make a greater struggle necessary.
Página 38 - Would you learn who won by the light of the moon and stars? List to the yarn, as my grandmother's father the sailor told it to me.
Página 54 - Outbidding at the start the old cautious hucksters, Taking myself the exact dimensions of Jehovah, Lithographing Kronos, Zeus his son, and Hercules his grandson, Buying drafts of Osiris, Isis, Belus, Brahma, Buddha, In my portfolio placing Manito loose, Allah on a leaf, the crucifix engraved, With Odin and the hideous-faced Mexitli and every idol and image, Taking them all for what they are worth and not a cent more...
Página 66 - Lo, the most excellent sun so calm and haughty, The violet and purple morn with just-felt breezes, The gentle soft-born measureless light, The miracle spreading bathing all, the fulfill'd noon, The coming eve delicious, the welcome night and the stars, Over my cities shining all, enveloping man and land.
Página 68 - From me to thee glad serenades, Dances for thee I propose saluting thee, adornments and feastings for thee, And the sights of the open landscape and the high-spread sky are fitting, And life and the fields, and the huge and thoughtful night.
Página 68 - And the sights of the open landscape and the high-spread sky are fitting, And life and the fields, and the huge and thoughtful night. The night in silence under many a star, The ocean shore and the husky whispering wave whose voice I know, And the soul turning to thee O vast and well-veil'd death, And the body gratefully nestling close to thee.
Página 57 - O baffled, balk'd, bent to the very earth, Oppress'd with myself that I have dared to open my mouth, Aware now that amid all that blab whose echoes recoil upon me I have not once had the least idea who or what I am, But that before all my arrogant poems the real Me stands yet untouch'd, untold, altogether unreach'd...
Página 53 - Accepting the rough deific sketches to fill out better in myself, bestowing them freely on each man and woman I see, Discovering as much or more in a framer framing a house, Putting higher claims for him there with his...
Página 33 - I am the hounded slave, I wince at the bite of the dogs, Hell and despair are upon me, crack and again crack the marksmen, I clutch the rails of the fence, my gore dribs...