O Daedalus, Fly Away Home by Robert Hayden

(For Maia and Julie) Drifting night in the Georgia pines, coonskin drum and jubilee banjo. Pretty Malinda, dance with me. Night is juba, night is congo. Pretty Malinda, dance with me. Night is an African juju man weaving a wish and a weariness together to make two wings. O fly away home fly away Do […]

Among the Multitude. by Walt Whitman

AMONG the men and women, the multitude, I perceive one picking me out by secret and divine signs, Acknowledging none else—not parent, wife, husband, brother, child, any nearer than I am; Some are baffled—But that one is not—that one knows me. Ah, lover and perfect equal! I meant that you should discover me so, by […]

American Feuillage. by Walt Whitman

AMERICA always! Always our own feuillage! Always Florida’s green peninsula! Always the priceless delta of Louisiana! Always the cotton-fields of Alabama and Texas! Always California’s golden hills and hollows—and the silver mountains of New Mexico! Always soft-breath’d Cuba! Always the vast slope drain’d by the Southern Sea—inseparable with the slopes drain’d by the Eastern and […]

An Army Corps on the March. by Walt Whitman

WITH its cloud of skirmishers in advance, With now the sound of a single shot, snapping like a whip, and now an irregular volley, The swarming ranks press on and on, the dense brigades press on; Glittering dimly, toiling under the sun—the dust-cover’d men, In columns rise and fall to the undulations of the ground, […]

All is Truth. by Walt Whitman

O ME, man of slack faith so long! Standing aloof—denying portions so long; Only aware to-day of compact, all-diffused truth; Discovering to-day there is no lie, or form of lie, and can be none, but grows as inevitably upon itself as the truth does upon itself, Or as any law of the earth, or any […]

A Carol of Harvest, for 1867 by Walt Whitman

1 A SONG of the good green grass! A song no more of the city streets; A song of farms—a song of the soil of fields. A song with the smell of sun-dried hay, where the nimble pitchers handle the pitch-fork; A song tasting of new wheat, and of fresh-husk’d maize. 2 For the lands, […]

A Promise to California. by Walt Whitman

A PROMISE to California, Also to the great Pastoral Plains, and for Oregon: Sojourning east a while longer, soon I travel toward you, to remain, to teach robust American love; For I know very well that I and robust love belong among you, inland, and along the Western Sea; For These States tend inland, and […]

After the Sea-Ship. by Walt Whitman

AFTER the Sea-Ship—after the whistling winds; After the white-gray sails, taut to their spars and ropes, Below, a myriad, myriad waves, hastening, lifting up their necks, Tending in ceaseless flow toward the track of the ship: Waves of the ocean, bubbling and gurgling, blithely prying, Waves, undulating waves—liquid, uneven, emulous waves, Toward that whirling current, […]

A Boston Ballad, 1854. by Walt Whitman

TO get betimes in Boston town, I rose this morning early; Here’s a good place at the corner—I must stand and see the show. Clear the way there, Jonathan! Way for the President’s marshal! Way for the government cannon! Way for the Federal foot and dragoons—and the apparitions copiously tumbling. I love to look on […]

A Riddle Song. by Walt Whitman

THAT which eludes this verse and any verse, Unheard by sharpest ear, unform’d in clearest eye or cunningest mind, Nor lore nor fame, nor happiness nor wealth, And yet the pulse of every heart and life throughout the world incessantly, Which you and I and all pursuing ever ever miss, Open but still a secret, […]

A Song. by Walt Whitman

1 COME, I will make the continent indissoluble; I will make the most splendid race the sun ever yet shone upon; I will make divine magnetic lands, With the love of comrades, With the life-long love of comrades. 2 I will plant companionship thick as trees along all the rivers of America, and along the […]

A Glimpse. by Walt Whitman

A GLIMPSE, through an interstice caught, Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room, around the stove, late of a winter night—And I unremark’d seated in a corner; Of a youth who loves me, and whom I love, silently approaching, and seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand; A […]

An Old Man’s Thought of School. by Walt Whitman

AN old man’s thought of School; An old man, gathering youthful memories and blooms, that youth itself cannot. Now only do I know you! O fair auroral skies! O morning dew upon the grass! And these I see—these sparkling eyes, These stores of mystic meaning—these young lives, Building, equipping, like a fleet of ships—immortal ships! […]

Pioneers! O Pioneers! by Walt Whitman

1 COME, my tan-faced children, Follow well in order, get your weapons ready; Have you your pistols? have you your sharp edged axes? Pioneers! O pioneers! 2 For we cannot tarry here, We must march my darlings, we must bear the brunt of danger, We, the youthful sinewy races, all the rest on us depend, […]

Perfections. by Walt Whitman

ONLY themselves understand themselves, and the like of themselves, As Souls only understand Souls. ————— 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 of poetic works. Here you’ll find original poems, […]

Pensive on Her Dead Gazing, I Heard the Mother of All. by Walt Whitman

PENSIVE, on her dead gazing, I heard the Mother of All, Desperate, on the torn bodies, on the forms covering the battle-fields gazing; (As the last gun ceased—but the scent of the powder-smoke linger’d;) As she call’d to her earth with mournful voice while she stalk’d: Absorb them well, O my earth, she cried—I charge […]

Pensive and Faltering. by Walt Whitman

PENSIVE and faltering, The words, the dead, I write; For living are the Dead; (Haply the only living, only real, And I the apparition—I the spectre.) 5 ————— 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 […]

Pensive and Faltering. by Walt Whitman

PENSIVE and faltering, The words, the dead, I write; For living are the Dead; (Haply the only living, only real, And I the apparition—I the spectre.) 5 ————— 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 […]

Patroling Barnegat. by Walt Whitman

WILD, wild the storm, and the sea high running, Steady the roar of the gale, with incessant undertone muttering, Shouts of demoniac laughter fitfully piercing and pealing, Waves, air, midnight, their savagest trinity lashing, Out in the shadows there milk-white combs careering, On beachy slush and sand spirts of snow fierce slanting, Where through the […]

Passage to India. by Walt Whitman

1 SINGING my days, Singing the great achievements of the present, Singing the strong, light works of engineers, Our modern wonders, (the antique ponderous Seven outvied,) In the Old World, the east, the Suez canal, The New by its mighty railroad spann’d, The seas inlaid with eloquent, gentle wires, I sound, to commence, the cry, […]

Ox Tamer, The. by Walt Whitman

IN a faraway northern county, in the placid, pastoral region, Lives my farmer friend, the theme of my recitative, a famous Tamer of Oxen: There they bring him the three-year-olds and the four-year-olds, to break them; He will take the wildest steer in the world, and break him and tame him; He will go, fearless, […]

Over the Carnage. by Walt Whitman

OVER the carnage rose prophetic a voice, Be not dishearten’d—Affection shall solve the problems of Freedom yet; Those who love each other shall become invincible—they shall yet make Columbia victorious. Sons of the Mother of All! you shall yet be victorious! You shall yet laugh to scorn the attacks of all the remainder of the […]

Out of the Rolling Ocean, the Crowd. by Walt Whitman

1 OUT of the rolling ocean, the crowd, came a drop gently to me, Whispering, I love you, before long I die, I have travel’d a long way, merely to look on you, to touch you, For I could not die till I once look’d on you, For I fear’d I might afterward lose you. […]

Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking. by Walt Whitman

1 OUT of the cradle endlessly rocking, Out of the mocking-bird’s throat, the musical shuttle, Out of the Ninth-month midnight, Over the sterile sands, and the fields beyond, where the child, leaving his bed, wander’d alone, bare-headed, barefoot, Down from the shower’d halo, Up from the mystic play of shadows, twining and twisting as if […]

Out from Behind this Mask. by Walt Whitman

1 OUT from behind this bending, rough-cut Mask, (All straighter, liker Masks rejected—this preferr’d,) This common curtain of the face, contain’d in me for me, in you for you, in each for each, (Tragedies, sorrows, laughter, tears—O heaven! The passionate, teeming plays this curtain hid!) This glaze of God’s serenest, purest sky, This film of […]

Others may Praise what They Like. by Walt Whitman

OTHERS may praise what they like; But I, from the banks of the running Missouri, praise nothing, in art, or aught else, Till it has well inhaled the atmosphere of this river—also the western prairie-scent, And fully exudes it again. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by […]

Or from that Sea of Time. by Walt Whitman

1 OR, from that Sea of Time, Spray, blown by the wind—a double winrow-drift of weeds and shells; (O little shells, so curious-convolute! so limpid-cold and voiceless! Yet will you not, to the tympans of temples held, Murmurs and echoes still bring up—Eternity’s music, faint and far, Wafted inland, sent from Atlantica’s rim—strains for the […]

One Sweeps By. by Walt Whitman

ONE sweeps by, attended by an immense train, All emblematic of peace—not a soldier or menial among them. One sweeps by, old, with black eyes, and profuse white hair, He has the simple magnificence of health and strength, His face strikes as with flashes of lightning whoever it turns toward. Three old men slowly pass, […]

One Song, America, Before I Go. by Walt Whitman

ONE song, America, before I go, I’d sing, o’er all the rest, with trumpet sound, For thee—the Future. I’d sow a seed for thee of endless Nationality; I’d fashion thy Ensemble, including Body and Soul; I’d show, away ahead, thy real Union, and how it may be accomplish’d. (The paths to the House I seek […]

One’s-Self I Sing. by Walt Whitman

ONE’S-SELF I sing—a simple, separate Person; Yet utter the word Democratic, the word En-masse. Of Physiology from top to toe I sing; Not physiognomy alone, nor brain alone, is worthy for the muse—I say the Form complete is worthier far; The Female equally with the male I sing. Of Life immense in passion, pulse, and […]

One Hour to Madness and Joy. by Walt Whitman

ONE hour to madness and joy! O furious! O confine me not! (What is this that frees me so in storms? What do my shouts amid lightnings and raging winds mean?) O to drink the mystic deliria deeper than any other man! O savage and tender achings! (I bequeath them to you, my children, I […]

Once I Pass’d Through a Populous City. by Walt Whitman

ONCE I pass’d through a populous city, imprinting my brain, for future use, with its shows, architecture, customs, and traditions; Yet now, of all that city, I remember only a woman I casually met there, who detain’d me for love of me; Day by day and night by night we were together,–All else has long […]

On the Beach at Night, Alone. by Walt Whitman

ON the beach at night alone, As the old mother sways her to and fro, singing her husky song, As I watch the bright stars shining—I think a thought of the clef of the universes, and of the future. A VAST SIMILITUDE interlocks all, All spheres, grown, ungrown, small, large, suns, moons, planets, comets, asteroids, […]

On Journeys Through The States. by Walt Whitman

ON journeys through the States we start, (Ay, through the world—urged by these songs, Sailing henceforth to every land—to every sea;) We, willing learners of all, teachers of all, and lovers of all. We have watch’d the seasons dispensing themselves, and passing on, We have said, Why should not a man or woman do as […]

Old Ireland. by Walt Whitman

FAR hence, amid an isle of wondrous beauty, Crouching over a grave, an ancient, sorrowful mother, Once a queen—now lean and tatter’d, seated on the ground, Her old white hair drooping dishevel’d round her shoulders; At her feet fallen an unused royal harp, Long silent—she too long silent—mourning her shrouded hope and heir; Of all […]

Offerings. by Walt Whitman

A THOUSAND perfect men and women appear, Around each gathers a cluster of friends, and gay children and youths, with offerings. ————— 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 of […]

Of the Visage of Things. by Walt Whitman

OF the visages of things—And of piercing through to the accepted hells beneath; Of ugliness—To me there is just as much in it as there is in beauty—And now the ugliness of human beings is acceptable to me; Of detected persons—To me, detected persons are not, in any respect, worse than undetected persons—and are not […]

Of the Terrible Doubt of Appearances. by Walt Whitman

OF the terrible doubt of appearances, Of the uncertainty after all—that we may be deluded, That may-be reliance and hope are but speculations after all, That may-be identity beyond the grave is a beautiful fable only, May-be the things I perceive—the animals, plants, men, hills, shining and flowing waters, The skies of day and night—colors, […]

Of Him I Love Day and Night. by Walt Whitman

OF him I love day and night, I dream’d I heard he was dead; And I dream’d I went where they had buried him I love—but he was not in that place; And I dream’d I wander’d, searching among burial-places, to find him; And I found that every place was a burial-place; The houses full […]

O You Whom I Often and Silently Come. by Walt Whitman

O YOU whom I often and silently come where you are, that I may be with you; As I walk by your side, or sit near, or remain in the same room with you, Little you know the subtle electric fire that for your sake is playing within me. ————— The End And that’s the […]