Walt Whitman (Уолт Уитмен)

Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 56. Old Age's Lambent Peaks

The touch of flame—the illuminating fire—the loftiest look at last,
O'er city, passion, sea—o'er prairie, mountain, wood—the earth itself,
The airy, different, changing hues of all, in failing twilight,
Objects and groups, bearings, faces, reminiscences;
The calmer sight—the golden setting, clear and broad:
So much i' the atmosphere, the points of view, the situations whence
      we scan,
Bro't out by them alone—so much (perhaps the best) unreck'd before;
The lights indeed from them—old age's lambent peaks.

1. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 28. Old Salt Kossabone
2. Leaves of Grass. 35. Good-Bye My Fancy. 14. Interpolation Sounds
3. Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 23. To a Pupil
4. Leaves of Grass. 35. Good-Bye My Fancy. 18. Sounds of the Winter
5. Leaves of Grass. 20. By the Roadside. 28. Offerings

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1301

Последние стихотворения

To English version