My Picture-Callery
IN a little house keep I pictures suspended, it is not a fix'd house,
It is round, it is only a few inches from one side to the other;
Yet behold, it has room for all the shows of the world, all memories?
Here the tableaus of life, and here the groupings of death;
Here, do you know this? this is cicerone himself,
With finger rais'd he points to the prodigal pictures.
Walt Whitman
D'autres poésies de Walt Whitman
1861
ARM'D year! year of the struggle!
No dainty...
A Boston Ballad, 1854
TO get betimes in Boston town, I rose this morning...
A child said, What is the grass?
A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to me with full
A Child's Amaze
SILENT and amazed, even when a little boy,
I...
A Clear Midnight
THIS is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,
A Farm-Picture
THROUGH the ample open door of the peaceful country...
A Glimpse
A GLIMPSE, through an interstice caught,
Of a...
A Hand-Mirror
HOLD it up sternly! See this it sends back! (Who is...
A Leaf For Hand In Hand
A LEAF for hand in hand!
You natural persons...
A March In The Ranks, Hard-prest
A MARCH in the ranks hard-prest, and the road...
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