Ethiopia Saluting the Colors. by Walt Whitman
1 WHO are you, dusky woman, so ancient, hardly human, With your woolly-white and turban’d head, and bare bony feet? Why, rising by the roadside here, do you the colors greet? 2 (’Tis while our army lines Carolina’s sand and pines, Forth from thy hovel door, thou, Ethiopia, com’st to me, As, under doughty Sherman, […]
Elemental Drifts. by Walt Whitman
1 ELEMENTAL drifts! How I wish I could impress others as you have just been impressing me! As I ebb’d with an ebb of the ocean of life, As I wended the shores I know, As I walk’d where the ripples continually wash you, Paumanok, Where they rustle up, hoarse and sibilant, Where the fierce […]
Eidólons. by Walt Whitman
I MET a Seer, Passing the hues and objects of the world, The fields of art and learning, pleasure, sense, To glean Eidólons. Put in thy chants, said he, No more the puzzling hour, nor day—nor segments, parts, put in, Put first before the rest, as light for all, and entrance-song of all, That of […]
Earth! my Likeness! by Walt Whitman
EARTH! my likeness! Though you look so impassive, ample and spheric there, I now suspect that is not all; I now suspect there is something fierce in you, eligible to burst forth; For an athlete is enamour’d of me—and I of him; But toward him there is something fierce and terrible in me, eligible to […]
Drum-Taps. by Walt Whitman
1 FIRST, O songs, for a prelude, Lightly strike on the stretch’d tympanum, pride and joy in my city, How she led the rest to arms—how she gave the cue, How at once with lithe limbs, unwaiting a moment, she sprang; (O superb! O Manhattan, my own, my peerless! O strongest you in the hour […]
Dresser, The. by Walt Whitman
1 AN old man bending, I come, among new faces, Years looking backward, resuming, in answer to children, Come tell us, old man, as from young men and maidens that love me; Years hence of these scenes, of these furious passions, these chances, Of unsurpass’d heroes, (was one side so brave? the other was equally […]
Dirge for Two Veterans. by Walt Whitman
1 THE last sunbeam Lightly falls from the finish’d Sabbath, On the pavement here—and there beyond, it is looking, Down a new-made double grave. 2 Lo! the moon ascending! Up from the east, the silvery round moon; Beautiful over the house tops, ghastly phantom moon; Immense and silent moon. 3 I see a sad procession, […]
Despairing Cries. by Walt Whitman
1 DESPAIRING cries float ceaselessly toward me, day and night, The sad voice of Death—the call of my nearest lover, putting forth, alarmed, uncertain, This sea I am quickly to sail, come tell me, Come tell me where I am speeding—tell me my destination. 2 I understand your anguish, but I cannot help you, I […]
Delicate Cluster. by Walt Whitman
DELICATE cluster! flag of teeming life! Covering all my lands! all my sea-shores lining! Flag of death! (how I watch’d you through the smoke of battle pressing! How I heard you flap and rustle, cloth defiant!) Flag cerulean! sunny flag! with the orbs of night dappled! Ah my silvery beauty! ah my woolly white and […]
Debris. by Walt Whitman
HE is wisest who has the most caution, He only wins who goes far enough. Any thing is as good as established, when that is established that will produce it and continue it. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the […]
Darest Thou Now, O Soul. by Walt Whitman
1 DAREST thou now, O Soul, Walk out with me toward the Unknown Region, Where neither ground is for the feet, nor any path to follow? 2 No map, there, nor guide, Nor voice sounding, nor touch of human hand, Nor face with blooming flesh, nor lips, nor eyes, are in that land. 3 I […]
Dalliance of the Eagles, The. by Walt Whitman
SKIRTING the river road, (my forenoon walk, my rest,) Skyward in air a sudden muffled sound, the dalliance of the eagles, The rushing amorous contact high in space together, The clinching interlocking claws, a living, fierce, gyrating wheel, Four beating wings, two beaks, a swirling mass tight grappling, In tumbling turning clustering loops, straight downward […]
Crossing Brooklyn Ferry. by Walt Whitman
1 FLOOD-TIDE below me! I watch you face to face; Clouds of the west! sun there half an hour high! I see you also face to face. Crowds of men and women attired in the usual costumes! how curious you are to me! On the ferry-boats, the hundreds and hundreds that cross, returning home, are […]
Come up from the Fields, Father. by Walt Whitman
1 COME up from the fields, father, here’s a letter from our Pete; And come to the front door, mother—here’s a letter from thy dear son. 2 Lo, ’tis autumn; Lo, where the trees, deeper green, yellower and redder, Cool and sweeten Ohio’s villages, with leaves fluttering in the moderate wind; Where apples ripe in […]
City of Ships. by Walt Whitman
CITY of ships! (O the black ships! O the fierce ships! O the beautiful, sharp-bow’d steam-ships and sail-ships!) City of the world! (for all races are here; All the lands of the earth make contributions here;) City of the sea! city of hurried and glittering tides! City whose gleeful tides continually rush or recede, whirling […]
City of Orgies. by Walt Whitman
CITY of orgies, walks and joys! City whom that I have lived and sung in your midst will one day make you illustrious, Not the pageants of you—not your shifting tableaux, your spectacles, repay me; Not the interminable rows of your houses—nor the ships at the wharves, Nor the processions in the streets, nor the […]
City Dead-House, The. by Walt Whitman
BY the City Dead-House, by the gate, As idly sauntering, wending my way from the clangor, I curious pause—for lo! an outcast form, a poor dead prostitute brought; Her corpse they deposit unclaim’d—it lies on the damp brick pavement; The divine woman, her body—I see the Body—I look on it alone, That house once full […]
Chanting the Square Deific. by Walt Whitman
1 CHANTING the square deific, out of the One advancing, out of the sides; Out of the old and new—out of the square entirely divine, Solid, four-sided, (all the sides needed)… from this side JEHOVAH am I, Old Brahm I, and I Saturnius am; Not Time affects me—I am Time, old, modern as any; Unpersuadable, […]
Centenarian’s Story, The. by Walt Whitman
GIVE me your hand, old Revolutionary; The hill-top is nigh—but a few steps, (make room, gentlemen;) Up the path you have follow’d me well, spite of your hundred and extra years; You can walk, old man, though your eyes are almost done; Your faculties serve you, and presently I must have them serve me. Rest, […]
Cavalry Crossing a Ford. by Walt Whitman
A LINE in long array, where they wind betwixt green islands; They take a serpentine course—their arms flash in the sun—Hark to the musical clank; Behold the silvery river—in it the splashing horses, loitering, stop to drink; Behold the brown-faced men—each group, each person, a picture—the negligent rest on the saddles; Some emerge on the […]
Carol of Words. by Walt Whitman
1 EARTH, round, rolling, compact—suns, moons, animals—all these are words to be said; Watery, vegetable, sauroid advances—beings, premonitions, lispings of the future, Behold! these are vast words to be said. Were you thinking that those were the words—those upright lines? those curves, angles, dots? No, those are not the words—the substantial words are in the […]
Carol of Occupations. by Walt Whitman
1 COME closer to me; Push close, my lovers, and take the best I possess; Yield closer and closer, and give me the best you possess. This is unfinish’d business with me—How is it with you? (I was chill’d with the cold types, cylinder, wet paper between us.) Male and Female! I pass so poorly […]
Camps of Green. by Walt Whitman
NOT alone those camps of white, O soldiers, When, as order’d forward, after a long march, Footsore and weary, soon as the light lessen’d, we halted for the night; Some of us so fatigued, carrying the gun and knapsack, dropping asleep in our tracks; Others pitching the little tents, and the fires lit up began […]
By the Bivouac’s Fitful Flame. by Walt Whitman
BY the bivouac’s fitful flame, A procession winding around me, solemn and sweet and slow;—but first I note, The tents of the sleeping army, the fields’ and woods’ dim outline, The darkness, lit by spots of kindled fire—the silence; Like a phantom far or near an occasional figure moving; The shrubs and trees, (as I […]
By Broad Potomac’s Shore. by Walt Whitman
1 BY broad Potomac’s shore—again, old tongue! (Still uttering—still ejaculating—canst never cease this babble?) Again, old heart so gay—again to you, your sense, the full flush spring returning; Again the freshness and the odors—again Virginia’s summer sky, pellucid blue and silver, Again the forenoon purple of the hills, Again the deathless grass, so noiseless, soft […]
Brother of All, with Generous Hand. by Walt Whitman
1 BROTHER of all, with generous hand, Of thee, pondering on thee, as o’er thy tomb, I and my Soul, A thought to launch in memory of thee, A burial verse for thee. What may we chant, O thou within this tomb? What tablets, pictures, hang for thee, O millionaire? —The life thou lived’st we […]
Bivouac on a Mountain Side. by Walt Whitman
I SEE before me now, a traveling army halting; Below, a fertile valley spread, with barns, and the orchards of summer; Behind, the terraced sides of a mountain, abrupt in places, rising high; Broken, with rocks, with clinging cedars, with tall shapes, dingily seen; The numerous camp-fires scatter’d near and far, some away up on […]
Behold this Swarthy Face. by Walt Whitman
BEHOLD this swarthy face—these gray eyes, This beard—the white wool, unclipt upon my neck, My brown hands, and the silent manner of me, without charm; Yet comes one, a Manhattanese, and ever at parting, kisses me lightly on the lips with robust love, And I, on the crossing of the street, or on the ship’s […]
Behavior. by Walt Whitman
BEHAVIOR—fresh, native, copious, each one for himself or herself, Nature and the Soul expressed—America and freedom expressed—In it the finest art, In it pride, cleanliness, sympathy, to have their chance, In it physique, intellect, faith—in it just as much as to manage an army or a city, or to write a book—perhaps more, The youth, […]
Beginning my Studies. by Walt Whitman
BEGINNING my studies, the first step pleas’d me so much, The mere fact, consciousness—these forms—the power of motion, The least insect or animal—the senses—eyesight—love; The first step, I say, aw’d me and pleas’d me so much, I have hardly gone, and hardly wish’d to go, any farther, But stop and loiter all the time, to […]
Beginners. by Walt Whitman
HOW they are provided for upon the earth, (appearing at intervals;) How dear and dreadful they are to the earth; How they inure to themselves as much as to any—What a paradox appears their age; How people respond to them, yet know them not; How there is something relentless in their fate, all times; How […]
Beautiful Women. by Walt Whitman
WOMEN sit, or move to and fro—some old, some young; The young are beautiful—but the old are more beautiful than the young. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the ultimate repository of world poetry. Poetry Monster — the multilingual library […]
Beat! Beat! Drums! by Walt Whitman
1 BEAT! beat! drums!—Blow! bugles! blow! Through the windows—through doors—burst like a ruthless force, Into the solemn church, and scatter the congregation; Into the school where the scholar is studying; Leave not the bridegroom quiet—no happiness must he have now with his bride; Nor the peaceful farmer any peace, plowing his field or gathering his […]
Bathed in War’s Perfume. by Walt Whitman
BATHED in war’s perfume—delicate flag! (Should the days needing armies, needing fleets, come again,) O to hear you call the sailors and the soldiers! flag like a beautiful woman! O to hear the tramp, tramp, of a million answering men! O the ships they arm with joy! O to see you leap and beckon from […]
Base of all Metaphysics, The. by Walt Whitman
AND now, gentlemen, A word I give to remain in your memories and minds, As base, and finale too, for all metaphysics. (So, to the students, the old professor, At the close of his crowded course.) Having studied the new and antique, the Greek and Germanic systems, Kant having studied and stated—Fichte and Schelling and […]
at Weeping Face. by Walt Whitman
WHAT weeping face is that looking from the window? Why does it stream those sorrowful tears? Is it for some burial place, vast and dry? Is it to wet the soil of graves? ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the […]
Assurances. by Walt Whitman
I NEED no assurances—I am a man who is preoccupied, of his own Soul; I do not doubt that from under the feet, and beside the hands and face I am cognizant of, are now looking faces I am not cognizant of—calm and actual faces; I do not doubt but the majesty and beauty of […]
Ashes of Soldiers. by Walt Whitman
ASHES of soldiers! As I muse, retrospective, murmuring a chant in thought, Lo! the war resumes—again to my sense your shapes, And again the advance of armies. Noiseless as mists and vapors, From their graves in the trenches ascending, From the cemeteries all through Virginia and Tennessee, From every point of the compass, out of […]
As Toilsome I Wander’d. by Walt Whitman
AS toilsome I wander’d Virginia’s woods, To the music of rustling leaves, kick’d by my feet, (for ’twas autumn,) I mark’d at the foot of a tree the grave of a soldier, Mortally wounded he, and buried on the retreat, (easily all could I understand;) The halt of a mid-day hour, when up! no time […]
As the Time Draws Nigh. by Walt Whitman
1 AS the time draws nigh, glooming, a cloud, A dread beyond, of I know not what, darkens me. I shall go forth, I shall traverse The States awhile—but I cannot tell whither or how long; Perhaps soon, some day or night while I am singing, my voice will suddenly cease. 2 O book, O […]