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Walt Whitman

Walt Whitman

Book XXXIV. Sands At Seventy: As I Sit Writing Here
As I sit writing here, sick and grown old,
Not my least burden is that dulness of the years, querilities,
Ungracious glooms, aches, lethargy, constipation, whimpering ennui,
May filter in my dally songs.

#AmericanWriters #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass

Other works by Walt Whitman...
Book XX. By The Roadside: The Dalliance of the Eagles

Skirting the river road, (my foren… Skyward in air a sudden muffled so… The rushing amorous contact high i… The clinching interlocking claws,… Four beating wings, two beaks, a s…
Book XXI. Drum-Taps: Look Down Fair Moon

Look down fair moon and bathe this… Pour softly down night’s nimbus fl… On the dead on their backs with ar… Pour down your unstinted nimbus sa…
 1
Book V. Calamus: Of the Terrible Doubt of Apperarances

Of the terrible doubt of appearanc… Of the uncertainty after all—that… That may-be reliance and hope are… That may-be identity beyond the gr… May-be the things I perceive—the…
 1
Book XX. By The Roadside: Visor’D

A mask, a perpetual natural disgui… Concealing her face, concealing he… Changes and transformations every… Falling upon her even when she sle…
Book V. Calamus: When I Peruse the Conquer’D Fame

When I peruse the conquer’d fame… mighty generals, I do not envy the… Nor the President in his Presiden… But when I hear of the brotherhoo… How through life, through dangers,…
Book V. Calamus: A Glimpse

A Glimpse, through an interstice… Of a crowd of workmen and drivers… late of a winter night—And I unre… Of a youth who loves me, and whom… seating himself near, that he may…
 1
Book XXXIV. Sands At Seventy: You Lingering Sparse Leaves of Me

You lingering sparse leaves of me… And I some well-shorn tree of fie… You tokens diminute and lorn—(not… clover-bloom—no grain of August no… You pallid banner-staves—you penna…
Book I. Inscriptions: To You

Stranger! if you, passing, meet me… speak to me, why should you not sp… And why should I not speak to you…
Book XXXIV. Sands At Seventy: Paumanok

Sea-beauty! stretch’d and basking! One side thy inland ocean laving,… steamers, sails, And one the Atlantic’s wind cares… dark-gliding in the distance.
Song of Myself, XXXII

I think I could turn and live wit… I stand and look at them long and… They do not sweat and whine about… They do not lie awake in the dark… They do not make me sick discussin…
 1
To Workingmen

COME closer to me; Push close, my lovers, and take th… Yield closer and closer, and give… possess. This is unfinish’d business with m…
Book XXIV. Autumn Rivulets: To a Pupil

Is reform needed? Is it through y… The greater the reform needed, the… to accomplish it. You! do you not see how it would s… complexion, clean and sweet?
Book XX. By The Roadside: A Hand-Mirror

Hold it up sternly—see this it sen… Outside fair costume, within ashes… No more a flashing eye, no more a… Now some slave’s eye, voice, hands… A drunkard’s breath, unwholesome e…
 1
Poems of Joy

1 O TO make the most jubilant po… O full of music! Full of manhood,… fancy! O full of common employments! Ful… trees.
 1
Book XX. By The Roadside: To the States (To Identify the 16th, 17th, or 18th Presidentiad)

Why reclining, interrogating? why… What deepening twilight-scum float… Who are they as bats and night-dog… What a filthy Presidentiad! (O S… arctic freezings!)



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