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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.)

#Americans #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass

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Altre opere di Walt Whitman...
Book XXI. Drum-Taps: Virginia—The West

The noble sire fallen on evil days… I saw with hand uplifted, menacing… (Memories of old in abeyance, love… The insane knife toward the Mothe… The noble son on sinewy feet advan…
Had I the Choice

Had I the choice to tally greates… To limn their portraits, stately,… Homer with all his wars and warrio… Or Shakespeare’s woe—entangled Ha… Meter or wit the best, or choice c…
Brother of All, With Genesrous Hand

BROTHER of all, with generous h… Of thee, pondering on thee, as o’e… A thought to launch in memory of t… A burial verse for thee. What may we chant, O thou within…
Leaves of Grass

1 On the beach at night alone, As the old mother sways her to and… savage and husky song, As I watch the bright stars shini… of the clef of the universes, and…
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Book IV. Children of Adam: Ages and Ages, Returning at Intervals

Ages and ages returning at interva… Undestroy’d, wandering immortal, Lusty, phallic, with the potent or… I, chanter of Adamic songs, Through the new garden the West,…
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Book XXXV. Good-Bye My Fancy: On, on the Same, Ye Jocund Twain!

On, on the same, ye jocund twain! My life and recitative, containing… Fitful as motley-tongues of flame,… one—combining all, My single soul—aims, confirmations…
Book XX. By The Roadside: Perfections

Only themselves understand themsel… As souls only understand souls.
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Book XXI. Drum-Taps: O Tan-Faced Prairie-Boy

O tan-faced prairie-boy, Before you came to camp came many… Praises and presents came and nour… You came, taciturn, with nothing t… When lo! more than all the gifts o…
Book XXXV. Good-Bye My Fancy: Good-Bye My Fancy

Good-bye my fancy—(I had a word t… But ’tis not quite the time—The b… Is when its proper place arrives—a… I keep mine till the last.)
Book XXXIV. Sands At Seventy: To Get the Final Lilt of Songs

To get the final lilt of songs, To penetrate the inmost lore of po… Job, Homer, Eschylus, Dante, Sha… To diagnose the shifting-delicate… truly understand,
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 XXXIV. Sands At Seventy: The Calming Thought of All

That coursing on, whate’er men’s s… Amid the changing schools, theolog… Amid the bawling presentations new… The round earth’s silent vital law…
Song of Myself, LI

The past and present wilt’€”I hav… And proceed to fill my next fold o… Listener up there! what have you t… Look in my face while I snuff the… (Talk honestly, no one else hears…
Book XXIV. Autumn Rivulets: On Old Man’s Thought of School

For the Inauguration of a Public… An old man’s thought of school, An old man gathering youthful memo… cannot. Now only do I know you,
Book XXXIV. Sands At Seventy: Stronger Lessons

Have you learn’d lessons only of t… tender with you, and stood aside f… Have you not learn’d great lessons… themselves against you? or who tre… the passage with you?
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