The Collected Poems of William Wordsworth collects the entirety of Wordsworth's verse, presenting it more or less chronologically and, as carefully as possible, the way was intended to be heard by the author, complete with the variety of word emphases that have been either represented by scare quotes or italics....

“The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not.—Great God! I’d rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.”...

Walt Whitman (1819-1892) is widely considered to be the greatest and most influential of all American poets. The first edition of LEAVES OF GRASS, his sole book which he would continue to revise over the course of his life expanding and rewriting it until the year of his death, appeared in 1855. This volume endeavors to recreate that debut edition as much as an e-book’s virtual typesetting will allow....

I celebrate myself, And what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.   I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease . . . . observing a spear of summer grass.   Houses and rooms are full of perfumes . . . . the shelves are crowded with perfumes, I breathe the fragrance myself, and know it and like it, The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let it.   The atmosphere is not a perfume . . . . it has no taste of the distillation . . . . it is odorless, It is for my mouth forever . . . . I am in love with it, I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked, I am mad for it to be in contact with me.   The smoke of my own breath, Echos, ripples, and buzzed whispers . . . . loveroot, silkthread, crotch and vine, My respiration and inspiration . . . . the beating of my heart . . . . the passing of blood and air through my lungs, “The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore and darkcolored sea-rocks, and of hay in the barn, The sound of the belched words of my voice . . . . words loosed to the eddies of the wind, A fe...

Contents Introduction "Frontispiece" "Letter from Ralph Waldo Emerson" "Original Title Page" "Entered according to Act of Congress..." "Preface" "Song of Myself" "A Song for Occupations" "To Think of Time" "The Sleepers" "I Sing the Body Electric" "Faces" "Song of the Answerer" "Europe the 72d and 73d Years of These States" "A Boston Ballad" "There Was a Child Went Forth" "Who Learns My Lesson Complete" "Great Are the Myths" About the Editor Also by William Ralph Press...