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Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine and twinkle on the Milky Way, They stretched in never-ending line along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced; but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay,
Inflorescence is a terminal cluster of flowers, borne on slender pedicels less than 1 inch long. Blooms have five sepals and five yellow or pinkish petals in a bell-shaped. Flowers dry and become light and papery. The dry hanging flowers make a rustling sound when a breeze comes through, giving the whispering bells its common name.
Whispering quick consonants between the branches, borrowing an autumnal aura. Sweet sigh of ripe chestnuts and shed leaves. And here—where the wind steals woodland scents—hides a curiosity.
" Through the ample open door of the peaceful country barn," Leaves of Grass (Book XX. By the Roadside) 1865 A Font of Type " This latent mine—these unlaunch’d voices—passionate powers," Leaves of Grass (Book XXXIV. Sands at Seventy) A Glimpse " A glimpse through an interstice caught," Leaves of Grass (Book V. Calamus) 1860 A Hand-Mirror
She was dissatisfied with the book, in part because of her lack of control over the content. She complained "The usual portrayal of myself has been that of a sweet, gentle Indian maiden—whispering to the leaves—swaying with the breeze, tra la—. No, no, I’m a rebel really." [16]
And carried aloft on the wings of the breeze; For above and around me the wild wind is roaring, Arousing to rapture the earth and the seas. The long withered grass in the sunshine is glancing, The bare trees are tossing their branches on high; The dead leaves beneath them are merrily dancing, The white clouds are scudding across the blue sky
Leaves of Grass is a poetry collection by American poet Walt Whitman. Though it was first published in 1855, Whitman spent most of his professional life writing, rewriting, and expanding Leaves of Grass [1] until his death in 1892. Six or nine individual editions of Leaves of Grass were produced, depending on how they are distinguished. [2]
In the breezes' embrace, It is, around the grey branches, The choir of tiny voices. O the delicate, fresh murmuring! The warbling and whispering, It is like the soft cry The ruffled grass gives out… You might take it for the muffled sound Of pebbles in the swirling stream. This soul which grieves In this subdued lament, It is ours, is it not?