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Walt Whitman

Walt Whitman

Book XXX. Whispers of Heavenly Death: Pensive and Faltering

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.)

#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass

Other works by Walt Whitman...
Song of Myself, XXXVIII

Enough! enough! enough! Somehow I have been stunn’d. Stan… Give me a little time beyond my cu… I discover myself on the verge of… That I could forget the mockers a…
Book I. Inscriptions: One’s-Self I Sing

One’s-Self I sing, a simple separ… Yet utter the word Democratic, th… Of physiology from top to toe I s… Not physiognomy alone nor brain al… The Female equally with the Male…
Carol of Occupations

COME closer to me; Push close, my lovers, and take th… Yield closer and closer, and give… This is unfinish’d business with m… (I was chill’d with the cold types…
A stroll on the beach, by Michael Ancher
Beautiful Women

WOMEN sit, or move to and fro—so… some young; The young are beautiful—but the ol… young.
Book XXI. Drum-Taps: Ethiopia Saluting the Colors

Who are you dusky woman, so ancien… With your woolly-white and turban’… Why rising by the roadside here, d… (’Tis while our army lines Caroli… Forth from thy hovel door thou Et…
Book XXXV. Good-Bye My Fancy: Sounds of the Winter

Sounds of the winter too, Sunshine upon the mountains—many a… From cheery railroad train—from ne… The whispering air—even the mute c… Children’s and women’s tones—rhyth…
Book XXXIV. Sands At Seventy: Orange Buds by Mail from Florida

A lesser proof than old Voltaire’… Proof of this present time, and th… To my plain Northern hut, in outs… Brought safely for a thousand mile… Some three days since on their own…
 1
What Weeping Face

WHAT weeping face is that lookin… Why does it stream those sorrowful… Is it for some burial place, vast… Is it to wet the soil of graves?
Book XXXIV. Sands At Seventy: Broadway

What hurrying human tides, or day… What passions, winnings, losses, a… What whirls of evil, bliss and sor… What curious questioning glances… Leer, envy, scorn, contempt, hope,…
 1
Book XXX. Whispers of Heavenly Death: Chanting the Square Deific

Chanting the square deific, out of… Out of the old and new, out of the… Solid, four-sided, (all the sides… Old Brahm I, and I Saturnius am; Not Time affects me—I am Time, o…
 1
Book IV. Children of Adam: O Hymen! O Hymenee!

O hymen! O hymenee! why do you ta… O why sting me for a swift moment… Why can you not continue? O why d… Is it because if you continued bey… soon certainly kill me?
Book XXXV. Good-Bye My Fancy: An Ended Day

The soothing sanity and blitheness… The pomp and hurried contest-glare… Now triumph! transformation! jubil…
Hymn of Dead Soldiers

1 ONE breath, O my silent soul, A perfum’d thought—no more I ask,… dead soldiers. 2 Buglers off in my armies! At present I ask not you to sound…
Book XVII. Birds Of Passage: To You

Whoever you are, I fear you are w… I fear these supposed realities ar… Even now your features, joys, spee… Your true soul and body appear bef… They stand forth out of affairs, o…
 1
Book IV. Children of Adam: I Heard You, Solemn-Sweet Pipes of the Organ

I heard you solemn-sweet pipes of… pass’d the church, Winds of autumn, as I walk’d the… stretch’d sighs up above so mournf… I heard the perfect Italian tenor…



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