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Leaves of Grass.
- The he-birds carol mornings and evenings, while the she-birds sit on their nests,
- The young of poultry break through the hatched eggs,
- The new-born of animals appear—the calf is dropt from the cow, the colt from the mare,
- Out of its little hill faithfully rise the potato's dark green leaves,
- Out of its hill rises the yellow maize-stalk;
- The summer growth is innocent and disdainful above all those strata of sour dead.
5. What chemistry!
- That the winds are really not infectious,
- That this is no cheat, this transparent green-wash of the sea, which is so amorous after me,
- That it is safe to allow it to lick my naked body all over with its tongues.
- That it will not endanger me with the fevers that have deposited themselves in it,
- That all is clean, forever and forever,
- That the cool drink from the well tastes so good,
- That blackberries are so flavorous and juicy,
- That the fruits of the apple-orchard, and of the orange-orchard—that melons, grapes, peaches, plums, will none of them poison me,
- That when I recline on the grass I do not catch any disease,
- Though probably every spear of grass rises out of what was once a catching disease.
6. Now I am terrified at the Earth! it is that calm and patient,
- It grows such sweet things out of such corruptions,
