O Tan-faced Prairie Boy. by Walt Whitman
O TAN-FACED prairie-boy! Before you came to camp, came many a welcome gift; Praises and presents came, and nourishing food—till at last, among the recruits, You came, taciturn, with nothing to give—we but look’d on each other, When lo! more than all the gifts of the world, you gave me. 5 ————— The End And […]
O Sun of Real Peace. by Walt Whitman
O SUN of real peace! O hastening light! O free and extatic! O what I here, preparing, warble for! O the sun of the world will ascend, dazzling, and take his height—and you too, O my Ideal, will surely ascend! O so amazing and broad—up there resplendent, darting and burning! O vision prophetic, stagger’d with […]
O Star of France. by Walt Whitman
1 O STAR of France! The brightness of thy hope and strength and fame, Like some proud ship that led the fleet so long, Beseems to-day a wreck, driven by the gale—a mastless hulk; And ’mid its teeming, madden’d, half-drown’d crowds, Nor helm nor helmsman. 2 Dim, smitten star! Orb not of France alone—pale symbol […]
O Living Always—Always Dying. by Walt Whitman
O LIVING always—always dying! O the burials of me, past and present! O me, while I stride ahead, material, visible, imperious as ever! O me, what I was for years, now dead, (I lament not—I am content;) O to disengage myself from those corpses of me, which I turn and look at, where I cast […]
O Hymen! O Hymenee! by Walt Whitman
O HYMEN! O hymenee! Why do you tantalize me thus? O why sting me for a swift moment only? Why can you not continue? O why do you now cease? Is it because, if you continued beyond the swift moment, you would soon certainly kill me? 5 ————— The End And that’s the End of […]
O Bitter Sprig! Confession Sprig! by Walt Whitman
O BITTER sprig! Confession sprig! In the bouquet I give you place also—I bind you in, Proceeding no further till, humbled publicly, I give fair warning, once for all. I own that I have been sly, thievish, mean, a prevaricator, greedy, derelict, And I own that I remain so yet. What foul thought but I […]
Now List to my Morning’s Romanza. by Walt Whitman
1 NOW list to my morning’s romanza—I tell the signs of the Answerer; To the cities and farms I sing, as they spread in the sunshine before me. A young man comes to me bearing a message from his brother; How shall the young man know the whether and when of his brother? Tell him […]
Now Finale to the Shore. by Walt Whitman
NOW finale to the shore! Now, land and life, finale, and farewell! Now Voyager depart! (much, much for thee is yet in store;) Often enough hast thou adventur’d o’er the seas, Cautiously cruising, studying the charts, Duly again to port, and hawser’s tie, returning: —But now obey, thy cherish’d, secret wish, Embrace thy friends—leave all […]
Not Youth Pertains to Me. by Walt Whitman
NOT youth pertains to me, Nor delicatesse—I cannot beguile the time with talk; Awkward in the parlor, neither a dancer nor elegant; In the learn’d coterie sitting constrain’d and still—for learning. inures not to me; Beauty, knowledge, inure not to me—yet there are two or three things inure to me; I have nourish’d the wounded, […]
Not the Pilot. by Walt Whitman
NOT the pilot has charged himself to bring his ship into port, though beaten back, and many times baffled; Not the path-finder, penetrating inland, weary and long, By deserts parch’d, snows-chill’d, rivers wet, perseveres till he reaches his destination, More than I have charged myself, heeded or unheeded, to compose a free march for These […]
Not My Enemies Ever Invade Me. by Walt Whitman
NOT my enemies ever invade me—no harm to my pride from them I fear; But the lovers I recklessly love—lo! how they master me! Lo! me, ever open and helpless, bereft of my strength! Utterly abject, grovelling on the ground before them. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. […]
Not Heaving from My Ribb’d Breast Only. by Walt Whitman
NOT heaving from my ribb’d breast only; Not in sighs at night, in rage, dissatisfied with myself; Not in those long-drawn, ill-supprest sighs; Not in many an oath and promise broken; Not in my wilful and savage soul’s volition; Not in the subtle nourishment of the air; Not in this beating and pounding at my […]
Not Heat Flames up and Consumes. by Walt Whitman
NOT heat flames up and consumes, Not sea-waves hurry in and out, Not the air, delicious and dry, the air of the ripe summer, bears lightly along white down-balls of myriads of seeds, Wafted, sailing gracefully, to drop where they may; Not these—O none of these, more than the flames of me, consuming, burning for […]
No Labor-Saving Machine. by Walt Whitman
NO labor-saving machine, Nor discovery have I made; Nor will I be able to leave behind me any wealthy bequest to found a hospital or library, Nor reminiscence of any deed of courage, for America, Nor literary success, nor intellect—nor book for the book-shelf; Only a few carols, vibrating through the air, I leave, For […]
Night on The Prairies. by Walt Whitman
NIGHT on the prairies; The supper is over—the fire on the ground burns low; The wearied emigrants sleep, wrapt in their blankets: I walk by myself—I stand and look at the stars, which I think now I never realized before. Now I absorb immortality and peace, I admire death, and test propositions. How plenteous! How […]
Native Moments. by Walt Whitman
NATIVE moments! when you come upon me—Ah you are here now! Give me now libidinous joys only! Give me the drench of my passions! Give me life coarse and rank! To-day, I go consort with nature’s darlings—to-night too; I am for those who believe in loose delights—I share the midnight orgies of young men; I […]
Mystic Trumpeter, The. by Walt Whitman
1 HARK! some wild trumpeter—some strange musician, Hovering unseen in air, vibrates capricious tunes to-night. I hear thee, trumpeter—listening, alert, I catch thy notes, Now pouring, whirling like a tempest round me, Now low, subdued—now in the distance lost. 2 Come nearer, bodiless one—haply, in thee resounds Some dead composer—haply thy pensive life Was fill’d […]
Myself and Mine. by Walt Whitman
MYSELF and mine gymnastic ever, To stand the cold or heat—to take good aim with a gun—to sail a boat—to manage horses—to beget superb children, To speak readily and clearly—to feel at home among common people, And to hold our own in terrible positions, on land and sea. Not for an embroiderer; (There will always […]
My Picture-Gallery. by Walt Whitman
IN a little house keep I pictures suspended, it is not a fix’d house, It is round, it is only a few inches from one side to the other; Yet behold, it has room for all the shows of the world, all memories? Here the tableaus of life, and here the groupings of death; Here, […]
Mother and Babe. by Walt Whitman
I SEE the sleeping babe, nestling the breast of its mother; The sleeping mother and babe—hush’d, I study them long and long. ————— 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 […]
Miracles. by Walt Whitman
WHY! who makes much of a miracle? As to me, I know of nothing else but miracles, Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan, Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky, Or wade with naked feet along the beach, just in the edge of the water, Or stand under trees […]
Mediums. by Walt Whitman
THEY shall arise in the States, They shall report Nature, laws, physiology, and happiness; They shall illustrate Democracy and the kosmos; They shall be alimentive, amative, perceptive; They shall be complete women and men—their pose brawny and supple, their drink water, their blood clean and clear; They shall enjoy materialism and the sight of products—they […]
Me Imperturbe. by Walt Whitman
ME imperturbe, standing at ease in Nature, Master of all, or mistress of all—aplomb in the midst of irrational things, Imbued as they—passive, receptive, silent as they, Finding my occupation, poverty, notoriety, foibles, crimes, less important than I thought; Me private, or public, or menial, or solitary—all these subordinate, (I am eternally equal with the […]
Mannahatta. by Walt Whitman
I WAS asking for something specific and perfect for my city, Whereupon, lo! upsprang the aboriginal name! Now I see what there is in a name, a word, liquid, sane, unruly, musical, self-sufficient; I see that the word of my city is that word up there, Because I see that word nested in nests of […]
Manhattan Streets I Saunter’d, Pondering. by Walt Whitman
1 MANHATTAN’S streets I saunter’d, pondering, On time, space, reality—on such as these, and abreast with them, prudence. 2 After all, the last explanation remains to be made about prudence; Little and large alike drop quietly aside from the prudence that suits immortality. The Soul is of itself; All verges to it—all has reference to […]
Look Down, Fair Moon. by Walt Whitman
LOOK down, fair moon, and bathe this scene; Pour softly down night’s nimbus floods, on faces ghastly, swollen, purple; On the dead, on their backs, with their arms toss’d wide, Pour down your unstinted nimbus, sacred moon. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. […]
Longings for Home. by Walt Whitman
O MAGNET-SOUTH! O glistening, perfumed South! My South! O quick mettle, rich blood, impulse, and love! Good and evil! O all dear to me! O dear to me my birth-things—All moving things, and the trees where I was born—the grains, plants, rivers; Dear to me my own slow sluggish rivers where they flow, distant, over […]
Long, too Long, O Land! by Walt Whitman
LONG, too long, O land, Traveling roads all even and peaceful, you learn’d from joys and prosperity only; But now, ah now, to learn from crises of anguish—advancing, grappling with direst fate, and recoiling not; And now to conceive, and show to the world, what your children en-masse really are; (For who except myself has […]
Long I Thought that Knowledge. by Walt Whitman
LONG I thought that knowledge alone would suffice me—O if I could but obtain knowledge! Then my lands engrossed me—Lands of the prairies, Ohio’s land, the southern savannas, engrossed me—For them I would live—I would be their orator; Then I met the examples of old and new heroes—I heard of warriors, sailors, and all dauntless […]
Locations and Times. by Walt Whitman
LOCATIONS and times—what is it in me that meets them all, whenever and wherever, and makes me at home? Forms, colors, densities, odors—what is it in me that corresponds with them? ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the ultimate repository […]
Lo! Victress on the Peaks. by Walt Whitman
LO! Victress on the peaks! Where thou, with mighty brow, regarding the world, (The world, O Libertad, that vainly conspired against thee;) Out of its countless beleaguering toils, after thwarting them all; Dominant, with the dazzling sun around thee, Flauntest now unharm’d, in immortal soundness and bloom—lo! in these hours supreme, No poem proud, I, […]
Lessons. by Walt Whitman
THERE are who teach only the sweet lessons of peace and safety; But I teach lessons of war and death to those I love, That they readily meet invasions, when they come. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the ultimate […]
Laws for Creations. by Walt Whitman
LAWS for Creations, For strong artists and leaders—for fresh broods of teachers, and perfect literats for America, For noble savans, and coming musicians. All must have reference to the ensemble of the world, and the compact truth of the world; There shall be no subject too pronounced—All works shall illustrate the divine law of indirections. […]
Last Invocation, The. by Walt Whitman
1 AT the last, tenderly, From the walls of the powerful, fortress’d house, From the clasp of the knitted locks—from the keep of the well-closed doors, Let me be wafted. 2 Let me glide noiselessly forth; With the key of softness unlock the locks—with a whisper, Set ope the doors, O Soul! 3 Tenderly! be […]
Kosmos. by Walt Whitman
WHO includes diversity, and is Nature, Who is the amplitude of the earth, and the coarseness and sexuality of the earth, and the great charity of the earth, and the equilibrium also, Who has not look’d forth from the windows, the eyes, for nothing, or whose brain held audience with messengers for nothing; Who contains […]
Joy, Shipmate, Joy! by Walt Whitman
JOY! shipmate—joy! (Pleas’d to my Soul at death I cry;) Our life is closed—our life begins; The long, long anchorage we leave, The ship is clear at last—she leaps! She swiftly courses from the shore; Joy! shipmate—joy! ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. […]
Italian Music in Dakota. by Walt Whitman
THROUGH the soft evening air enwrinding all, Rocks, woods, fort, cannon, pacing sentries, endless wilds, In dulcet streams, in flutes’ and cornets’ notes, Electric, pensive, turbulent artificial, (Yet strangely fitting even here, meanings unknown before, Subtler than ever, more harmony, as if born here, related here, Not to the city’s fresco’d rooms, not to the […]
Inscription. by Walt Whitman
SMALL is the theme of the following Chant, yet the greatest—namely, One’s-Self—that wondrous thing a simple, separate person. That, for the use of the New World, I sing. Man’s physiology complete, 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. […]
Indications, The. by Walt Whitman
THE indications, and tally of time; Perfect sanity shows the master among philosophs; Time, always without flaw, indicates itself in parts; What always indicates the poet, is the crowd of the pleasant company of singers, and their words; The words of the singers are the hours or minutes of the light or dark—but the words […]
In the New Garden in all the Parts. by Walt Whitman
IN the new garden, in all the parts, In cities now, modern, I wander, Though the second or third result, or still further, primitive yet, Days, places, indifferent—though various, the same, Time, Paradise, the Mannahatta, the prairies, finding me unchanged, Death indifferent—Is it that I lived long since? Was I buried very long ago? For […]