From Paumanok Starting. by Walt Whitman
FROM Paumanock starting, I fly like a bird, Around and around to soar, to sing the idea of all; To the north betaking myself, to sing there arctic songs, To Kanada, till I absorb Kanada in myself—to Michigan then, To Wisconsin, Iowa, Minnesota, to sing their songs, (they are inimitable;) Then to Ohio and Indiana […]
From My Last Years. by Walt Whitman
FROM my last years, last thoughts I here bequeath, Scatter’d and dropt, in seeds, and wafted to the West, Through moisture of Ohio, prairie soil of Illinois—through Colorado, California air, For Time to germinate fully. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster […]
From Far Dakota’s Cañons. by Walt Whitman
FROM far Dakota’s cañons, Lands of the wild ravine, the dusky Sioux, the lonesome stretch, the silence, Haply to-day a mournful wail, haply a trumpet-note for heroes. The battle-bulletin, The Indian ambuscade, the craft, the fatal environment, The cavalry companies fighting to the last in sternest heroism, In the midst of their little circle, with […]
For Him I Sing. by Walt Whitman
FOR him I sing, (As some perennial tree, out of its roots, the present on the past:) With time and space I him dilate—and fuse the immortal laws, To make himself, by them, the law unto himself. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. […]
Facing West from California’s Shores. by Walt Whitman
FACING west, from California’s shores, Inquiring, tireless, seeking what is yet unfound, I, a child, very old, over waves, towards the house of maternity, the land of migrations, look afar, Look off the shores of my Western Sea—the circle almost circled; For, starting westward from Hindustan, from the vales of Kashmere, From Asia—from the north—from […]
Faces. by Walt Whitman
1 SAUNTERING the pavement, or riding the country by-road—lo! such faces! Faces of friendship, precision, caution, suavity, ideality; The spiritual, prescient face—the always welcome, common, benevolent face, The face of the singing of music—the grand faces of natural lawyers and judges, broad at the back-top; The faces of hunters and fishers, bulged at the brows—the […]
Europe, the 72d and 73d years of These States. by Walt Whitman
1 SUDDENLY, out of its stale and drowsy lair, the lair of slaves, Like lightning it le’pt forth, half startled at itself, Its feet upon the ashes and the rags—its hands tight to the throats of kings. O hope and faith! O aching close of exiled patriots’ lives! O many a sicken’d heart! Turn back […]
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, […]
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 […]
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 […]
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 […]
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 […]
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 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 […]
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 […]
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 […]
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 […]
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 […]
As I Watch’d the Ploughman Ploughing. by Walt Whitman
AS I watch’d the ploughman ploughing, Or the sower sowing in the fields—or the harvester harvesting, I saw there too, O life and death, your analogies: (Life, life is the tillage, and Death is the harvest according.) ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. […]
As I Ponder’d in Silence. by Walt Whitman
1 AS I ponder’d in silence, Returning upon my poems, considering, lingering long, A Phantom arose before me, with distrustful aspect, Terrible in beauty, age, and power, The genius of poets of old lands, As to me directing like flame its eyes, With finger pointing to many immortal songs, And menacing voice, What singest thou? […]
As I lay with Head in your Lap, Camerado. by Walt Whitman
AS I lay with my head in your lap, Camerado, The confession I made I resume—what I said to you in the open air I resume: I know I am restless, and make others so; I know my words are weapons, full of danger, full of death; (Indeed I am myself the real soldier; It […]
As Adam, Early in the Morning. by Walt Whitman
AS Adam, early in the morning, Walking forth from the bower, refresh’d with sleep; Behold me where I pass—hear my voice—approach, Touch me—touch the palm of your hand to my Body as I pass; Be not afraid of my Body. 5 ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems […]
Artilleryman’s Vision, The. by Walt Whitman
WHILE my wife at my side lies slumbering, and the wars are over long, And my head on the pillow rests at home, and the vacant midnight passes, And through the stillness, through the dark, I hear, just hear, the breath of my infant, There in the room, as I wake from sleep, this vision […]
Ages and Ages, Returning at Intervals. by Walt Whitman
AGES and ages, returning at intervals, Undestroy’d, wandering immortal, Lusty, phallic, with the potent original loins, perfectly sweet, I, chanter of Adamic songs, Through the new garden, the West, the great cities calling, Deliriate, thus prelude what is generated, offering these, offering myself, Bathing myself, bathing my songs in Sex, Offspring of my loins. ————— […]