Walt Whitman Poems

  • 201.  
    AMERICA always!
    Always our own feuillage! Always Florida's green peninsula! Always the priceless delta of
  • 202.  
    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
  • 203.  
    THROUGH the ample open door of the peaceful country barn,
    A sun-lit pasture field, with cattle and horses feeding; And haze, and vista, and the far horizon, fading away.
  • 204.  
    OF obedience, faith, adhesiveness;
    As I stand aloof and look, there is to me something profoundly affecting in large masses of men, following the lead of those
  • 205.  
    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,
  • 206.  
    THOUGHT of the Infinite--the All!
    Be thou my God.
  • 207.  
    ARMâ??D year! year of the struggle!
    No dainty rhymes or sentimental love verses for you, terrible year! Not you as some pale poetling, seated at a desk, lisping cadenzas
  • 208.  
    I MET a Seer,
    Passing the hues and objects of the world, The fields of art and learning, pleasure, sense,
  • 209.  
    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,
  • 210.  
    I SAW in Louisiana a live-oak growing,
    All alone stood it, and the moss hung down from the branches; Without any companion it grew there, uttering joyous leaves of dark
  • 211.  
    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
  • 212.  
    TWO boats with nets lying off the sea-beach, quite still,
    Ten fishermen waiting--they discover a thick school of mossbonkers-- they drop the join'd seine-ends in the water,
  • 213.  
    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?
  • 214.  
    rpest 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
  • 215.  
    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?
  • 216.  
    LO! Victress on the peaks!
    Where thou, with mighty brow, regarding the world, (The world, O Libertad, that vainly conspired against thee;)
  • 217.  
    THIS is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,
    Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done, Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou
  • 218.  
    O ME, man of slack faith so long!
    Standing aloof--denying portions so long; Only aware to-day of compact, all-diffused truth;
  • 219.  
    OUT of the cradle endlessly rocking,
    Out of the mocking-bird's throat, the musical shuttle, Out of the Ninth-month midnight,
  • 220.  
    OVER the western sea, hither from Niphon come,
    Courteous, the swart-cheek'd two-sworded envoys, Leaning back in their open barouches, bare-headed, impassive,
  • 221.  
    AND now, gentlemen,
    A word I give to remain in your memories and minds, As base, and finale too, for all metaphysics.
  • 222.  
    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:
  • 223.  
    STILL, though the one I sing,
    (One, yet of contradictions made,) I dedicate to Nationality, I leave in him Revolt, (O latent right of insurrection! O quenchless,
  • 224.  
    I Celebrate myself, and sing myself,
    And what I assume you shall assume,For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
  • 225.  
    OF ownership--As if one fit to own things could not at pleasure enter
    upon all, and incorporate them into himself or herself.
  • 226.  
    AFOOT and light-hearted, I take to the open road,
    Healthy, free, the world before me, The long brown path before me, leading wherever I choose.
  • 227.  
    FAST-ANCHOR'D, eternal, O love! O woman I love!
    O bride! O wife! more resistless than I can tell, the thought of you! --Then separate, as disembodied, or another born,
  • 228.  
    Twenty-eight young men bathe by the shore,
    Twenty-eight young men and all so friendly; Twenty-eight years of womanly life and all so lonesome.
  • 229.  
    WHO has gone farthest? For lo! have not I gone farther?
    And who has been just? For I would be the most just person of the earth;
  • 230.  
    WANDERING at morn,
    Emerging from the night, from gloomy thoughts--thee in my thoughts, Yearning for thee, harmonious Union! thee, Singing Bird divine!
  • 231.  
    STARTING from fish-shape Paumanok, where I was born,
    Well-begotten, and rais'd by a perfect mother; After roaming many lands--lover of populous pavements;
  • 232.  
    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,
  • 233.  
    COURAGE yet! my brother or my sister!
    Keep on! Liberty is to be subserv'd, whatever occurs; That is nothing, that is quell'd by one or two failures, or any
  • 234.  
    BEHAVIOR--fresh, native, copious, each one for himself or herself,
    Nature and the Soul expressed--America and freedom expressed--In it the finest art,
  • 235.  
    O LIVING always--always dying!
    O the burials of me, past and present! O me, while I stride ahead, material, visible, imperious as ever!
  • 236.  
    HUSH'D be the camps to-day;
    And, soldiers, let us drape our war-worn weapons; And each with musing soul retire, to celebrate,
  • 237.  
    OVER the carnage rose prophetic a voice,
    Be not dishearten'd--Affection shall solve the problems of Freedom yet;
  • 238.  
    EARTH! my likeness!
    Though you look so impassive, ample and spheric there, I now suspect that is not all;
  • 239.  
    HOLD it up sternly! See this it sends back! (Who is it? Is it you?)
    Outside fair costume--within ashes and filth, No more a flashing eye--no more a sonorous voice or springy step;
  • 240.  
    NOW finale to the shore!
    Now, land and life, finale, and farewell! Now Voyager depart! (much, much for thee is yet in store;)
  • 241.  
    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
  • 242.  
    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,
  • 243.  
    e dooryard bloom'd,
    And the great star early droop'd in the western sky in the night, I mourn'd, and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
  • 244.  
    O sight of shame, and pain, and dole!
    O fearful thought--a convict Soul!
  • 245.  
    PASSING stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,
    You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me, as of a dream,)
  • 246.  
    PRIMEVAL my love for the woman I love,
    O bride! O wife! more resistless, more enduring than I can tell, the thought of you!
  • 247.  
    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.
  • 248.  
    A MASK--a perpetual natural disguiser of herself,
    Concealing her face, concealing her form, Changes and transformations every hour, every moment,
  • 249.  
    Again a verse for sake of you,
    You soldiers in the ranks- you Volunteers, Who bravely fighting, silent fell,
  • 250.  
    I SAY whatever tastes sweet to the most perfect person, that is
    finally right.
Total 372 poems written by Walt Whitman

Poem of the day

A. E. Housman Poem
When The Lad For Longing Sighs
 by A. E. Housman

When the lad for longing sighs,
Mute and dull of cheer and pale,
If at death's own door he lies,
Maiden, you can heal his ail.

Lovers' ills are all to buy:
The wan look, the hollow tone,
The hung head, the sunken eye,

Read complete poem

Popular Poets